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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28172712">my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/freedomatsea/pseuds/freedomatsea'>freedomatsea</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Mandalorian (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>A.K.A Din's first experience with literally everything involved with a romantic relationship, Awkward Flirting, Cunnilingus, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, F/M, Falling In Love, First Kiss, First Time, Hand Jobs, Kissing, Loss of Virginity, Making Love, Making Out, Masturbation, Overstimulation, Resolved Sexual Tension, Romance, Sexual Inexperience, Slow Burn, Spoilers, Touch-Starved, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Virgin Din Djarin, just a little</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 19:48:57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>32,490</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28172712</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/freedomatsea/pseuds/freedomatsea</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>There was only one place, one person, that Din knew to retreat to in the wake of his loss. (post Chapter 16)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Din Djarin/Omera</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>243</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>301</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This will be either 2 or 3 parts. It's essentially an excuse to have Din and Omera bang (hence the rating) but Din needs to be properly romanced first. So enjoy all the pain that comes with romancing our dear sweet Din.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>She didn’t recognize him. Those warm eyes that had once stared into his soul through the visor of his expressionless helmet stared back at him with all the caution of strangers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was no Razor Crest reflecting light from the setting sun, no cooing baby at his side, no layers of beskar concealing his identity. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead, Din stood before her like a mere shadow of the gunslinger he’d been the last time their paths crossed. Less battle-forged bounty hunter, more shattered man. The weight of the world bore down against his shoulders, but his face remained emotionless, even as his heart continued to shatter within him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re not looking for any trouble.” Omera said firmly, shooing her daughter back into their modest home. “Night will be upon us shortly. You should double back to—“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have nowhere to go.” He said on an exhale, his own ears still unfamiliar with the timber of his voice without the modulation of his helmet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A vast range of emotions shifted across her face, her eyes widening as her lips twitched at the corners. She tempered her reaction, like she was reminding herself that what she </span>
  <em>
    <span>believed </span>
  </em>
  <span>wasn’t real. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The common house is occupied,” She explained with a shake of her head. “Migrant workers have come to assist with this season’s harvest.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din turned his head towards the common house, familiar with the points of interest within the village. He squinted, brows furrowing as the setting sun caught his eyes. That had never been a problem when his face had been concealed. “I see.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera was still gawking at him when he turned back to face her. “You have been here before.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Yes</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He stared back at her, trying to let his features relax, to look less imposing as he felt. “Omera—“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Omera!” Someone called out from across the village, another woman who seemed to be sweeping in to save the day. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine, Vurn.” Omera called back, her gaze shifting back towards Din. “We don’t get very many visitors who </span>
  <em>
    <span>aren’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> with the harvest.” She started to continue, but she stopped herself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din shifted uncomfortably on his feet, rocking from his heels to the balls of his feet and back again. He’d never realized how many facial expressions a person made — how effortless it looked to show your face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where is he?” She questioned, fingers clenching into the fabric of her skirt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turned his head, warily surveying the concerned faces of the villagers who had emerged from their huts after Vurn had called out to Omera. “Not here.” He said as he looked back at her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din tried to ignore the way his heart lodged itself in the back of his throat. No one had ever looked at him the way that she was. He could see every golden fleck of light in her gaze as she slid her eyes over his bare face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you hungry?” Omera questioned, gesturing for him to follow her across the familiar path into her home. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I could eat.” Din answered, his hands falling awkwardly at his sides as he walked. Even walking without the armor felt foreign — his stepper was lighter, without the added weight of beskar his center of gravity felt off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Still a man of few words?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t respond, unsure what one was meant to say where he was used to giving a slight shrug or cock of his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Winta had grown since the last time he’d seen her. She was still a willowy child, but she stood taller now. Din tried not to think about how different Grogu was too — how much he tried to communicate and function without assistance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s grown out of the little booster seat he’d fashioned for him on the Crest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His heart sank at the fleeting memory. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Winta, why don’t you go see if Rosa’s mother needs help with the baby?” Omera questioned, though Din recognized that the tone carried no suggestion to it — she meant for her to go, whether the woman needed assistance or not. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Winta didn’t argue, but recognized the same hesitance in her face that she’d looked at him with when he was hidden from view. She was a wary child. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d been a wary boy a long time ago. Hesitant of strangers. For good reason. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve had stew on the fire since midday.” Omera explained to him, filling the uncomfortable silence that settled between them. “It should be nearly ready.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She glanced in his direction, frowning when he made no attempt to respond. “I have broth as well. If you want something milder.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He blinked slowly. “Stew is fine.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you like to sit?” She suggested gently, gesturing to the small wooden table near the fire. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din gave a short nod, striding across the space to sit down awkwardly on the stool. He was used to being covered — used to beskar pinching into his flesh if he sat too comfortably. But there was no discomfort, even though he feared his face told a different story. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hadn’t realized how often people’s expressions fed off of the other half of the conversation. But he recognized it now as he tried to mirror her expressions, to offer some attempt at emotion shown, rather than felt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera’s gaze lingered on his face, before she busied herself with tending to the fire. She tossed kindling onto the embers, sparking fresh flames to lap at the pot of stew simmering above it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I forgot what it felt like.” Din said distantly, holding his palm towards the fire — marveling at the warm air that brushed against bare skin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She glanced back at him, a faint smile on her lips as she watched him. “How long has it been?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Childhood.” He answered with a slight roll of his shoulders. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You sound different without the helmet,” Omera said as she moved to pour two cups of mead, moving to join him on the opposite side of the table. “But I </span>
  <em>
    <span>still</span>
  </em>
  <span> recognized something about you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din curled his fingers around the cup, rubbing his thumb over the smooth wooden side as he stared down at the shimmering amber liquid. “I didn’t know where else to go.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad you chose Sorgan, Mando.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked up at her then, a shaky exhale escaping him before he spoke. “Din.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her brows rose upwards, “Pardon?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My name.” He swallowed thickly. How did someone speak and emote at the same time? Had it been so many years that he’d just forgotten? “It’s Din.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Din</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Omera tried the name, whispering it softly as she let it settle on her tongue. It sounded right coming from her. He’d wondered what it would sound like slipping past her lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had sat alone, marveling at her kindness as he ate what she had offered him — watching the children playing and wondering what life would be like on Sorgan. Quiet. Peaceful. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If only he had stayed… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din sniffed sharply, lifting his hand to wipe away a stray tear as it streaked down his cheek. “I’m not used to smoke.” He lied and he knew that she knew better. “My helmet had a filter—“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Had?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I broke my creed.” Din said flatly, moderating his voice. “I am no longer fit for my armor.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And your ship?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He flinched. “Destroyed.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And the child?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din turned his face away from her. “Unreachable.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera nodded solemnly, “I am sorry for what you’ve lost, Din, but thankful that you chose Sorgan.” He watched her fingers as they played with a dark lock of hair, before she tucked it behind her ear. “I had hoped that you might—“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Someone pounded on the front door of her hut, causing her to jump a little. Din’s hand shot to his hip where no weapon hung, body going rigid as dread settled heavy in his stomach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll get rid of them,” Omera promised him, resting her hand on his shoulder lightly before walking towards the front door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His mind spun. He was so familiar with harsh touches — fists, kicks, blaster fire. The faint touch of a kind hand against his shoulder, with only thin fabric separating them made him burn as hot as the fire. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Vurn said that you had a </span>
  <em>
    <span>guest</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” The man’s voice was kept low, like he was trying to keep Din from hearing him as he stood in the doorway. Of course, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>could </span>
  </em>
  <span>hear him, but not as clearly as he could’ve if he still had his helmet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din stiffly brought the mead to his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s an old friend, Lenair.” Omera explained. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Old friend or not, we’re working with a low yield harvest and a </span>
  <em>
    <span>lot</span>
  </em>
  <span> of hungry mouths. How long does he plan to stay?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din turned his head enough to look like was staring at the fire, but in reality he was watching Omera from his periphery. He wasn’t used to doing that, his helmet always blocked his view.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera sighed heavily, “Winta and I have plenty to share. He’ll stay for as long as he needs to.” In a hushed tone she added, “He’s lost his son.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That seemed to satisfy Lenair, if only a little. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll work.” Din added, turning his body towards the door then. “If it’s a matter of contributing…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera shook her head, “You’re a guest here.” She looked back at him and he tried to relax his expression under her gaze. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Vurn was concerned,” Lenair told Omera. “Her first thought was Winta’s fa—“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just an old friend.” Omera insisted. “I have stew on and I’d like to tend to it, if you don’t mind.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course.” He looked towards Din then, frowning at him. “Welcome to Sorgan.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“People here are still cautious,” Omera explained as she shut the door and latched it closed. “There are a few among us who are running from things. Hiding.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din nodded swiftly. “I understand.” He turned back in his seat, picking up his mead and sipping it. “Are </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> hiding?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera seemed unnerved as she sat down across from him, sweeping her hair back behind her shoulders. “In a way.” She explained, curling her fingers around her own cup of mead and taking a drink. “They believe Winta’s father is still alive.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And he isn’t?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She lifted her gaze to meet his eyes, “No.” He recognized a hint of pride playing across her features, a slight smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. “He was with the Empire.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s none of my business.” Din assured her, rubbing at the back of his neck. Without his armor he sat so rigidly — stiff and uneasy. It put new strain on muscles that were used to fighting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How long have you been without your armor?” Omera questioned, shifting the subject as she stared at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A week.” Din scraped his nail against the side of the wooden cup, staring down as he swirled the liquid. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A week ago they had been trying to rescue Grogu from Gideon’s clutches. A week ago he’d watched a Jedi walk away with Grogu. That was a loss that he hadn’t been able to shake. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt as though he lost Grogu because he had broken his creed. He was convinced and no amount of reassurance from Boba or Bo-Katan had given him comfort. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Boba and Fennec had agreed to return for him in a month’s time. Unless he needed </span>
  <em>
    <span>more</span>
  </em>
  <span> time. How much time did he need?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re hard to read.” Omera said gently, leaning her arms against the table. “You get lost in thought and your face just…” She waved her hand in front of her own, letting her own expression vanish. “Nothing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wore my armor for over three decades.” Din explained, rocking his jaw slowly as he considered his words. “I never had to consider my own expressions in the company of others.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not quite what I expected.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din touched his face, scratching his fingers over the slight bristle growing there. “I hadn’t considered what people may have thought was beneath the helmet. Sorry to disappoint.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera laughed softly, shaking her head. “I didn’t say I was disappointed.” She rose from the table, raising her brows as she met his gaze before turning towards the fire to retrieve the pot of stew. “Quite the contrary, actually.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He mulled over the implications there. Plenty of people had flirted with him over the years, tried to get him out of his armour, tried to seduce him, but… he’d never reciprocated. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Intimacy required trust that he had never afforded to anyone. He kept to himself and handled his own needs. Din had never been able to risk revealing any part of himself, had never been willing to be vulnerable. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But now he was sitting by the fire in a simple home on Sorgan, contemplating how he was supposed to reciprocate. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera glanced back at him over her shoulder, a faint smile on her lips. “You look pained.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was </span>
  <em>
    <span>trying</span>
  </em>
  <span> to smile.” He huffed a little, drumming his fingers against the top of the table. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was </span>
  <em>
    <span>certainly </span>
  </em>
  <span>an attempt.” Omera teased lightly. “It ruins all of my theories that you were just making faces behind your mask.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din glanced at her, “You make it look easy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nodded as she spooned out two bowls of stew. “You can learn. I’m certain of that.” Omera brought the bowl to him, sitting it down on the table and resting her hand on his shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stiffened almost immediately, but just as quickly he relaxed under her touch. “Thank you.” He offered, his fingers itching to reach up and rest his hand against hers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din wondered if his face revealed that desire, because Omera lingered beside him, her thumb gently brushing over his shoulder through his shirt. “I’m glad you came back, Din.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t know where else to go.” He admitted, lifting his hand and awkwardly patting hers. Skin against skin was a shocking sensation. She was warm to the touch, smooth skin beneath fingers that had only ever touched through heavy gloves. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera was bolder than he was. She took ahold of his hand, curling her fingers around his. “I don’t know why, but I expected your fingers to be rougher.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din cracked a faint smile, rubbing his thumb over the side of her hand. “My gloves always took the brunt of things.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t mind it.” She said, sliding her fingers against his. “It’s nice.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is.” Din agreed, looking down at where their hands were joined. “Omera, I…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eat your stew while it’s hot.” She told him, giving his hand a squeeze before she pulled it loose from his hold. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He flexed his fingers slowly, the weight and warmth of her hand still lingered even as she walked away from him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They ate in relative silence. He had spent the past thirty years of his life eating alone. Small talk felt strange — eating was another time when he was vulnerable, he knew that he had to eat hastily. Scarf down food and return his helmet to its rightful place. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But there was no helmet hide behind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Winta returned once night had fallen and a brisk chill followed her into their home. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din watched from his vantage point as Omera bundled Winta in a soft throw blanket and sat her by the fire with a bowl of stew. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you remember the Mandalorian who stayed with us?” Omera questioned, packaging the stew away and stowing it away for supper tomorrow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Winta nodded, her eyes sliding towards Din before scooping up stew. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well,” Omera looked to Din for permission, only continuing once he gave a slight tilt of his head and a smile. “This is Din, the Mandalorian that helped us save the village.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her head shot up, “Where’s the baby?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din felt like he had been punched in the gut. “He is with his people.” He answered, trying to keep his voice from betraying him, even as his expression did. “He’s safe.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But aren’t <em>you</em> his people?” Winta questioned and Omera was quick to shush her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine,” He assured her. “For a time I was his people, but… Grogu was a special child. I couldn’t give him what he needed. Not really.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve been through a lot, Din,” Omera said gently. “Why don’t I show you where you can sleep tonight while Winta finishes eating.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din nodded, scooting back in his seat before rising and following Omera into a room just off of the main living area. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I figured that I would sleep with Winta tonight and let you have my bed.” Omera explained as she pushed open the door and led him inside. “It’s not much, but I bet you it’s better than whatever bunk you’re accustomed to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was. At the center of the room sat a bed that was just big enough for two, fixed with sheets and blankets and an actual mattress. His back arched at the thought of sleeping on something </span>
  <em>
    <span>soft.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure?” Din questioned, looking back at her. “I didn’t come here to be a problem. I don’t want to overstep your hospitality.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” She smiled broadly at him and his heart flipped in his chest as she turned to face him, standing square with him. “You’re not a problem, Din.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din smiled back at her, the muscles at the corners of his lips twitching with the unfamiliar strain. “Thank you.” He gestured to the bed, before turning back to her. “And for the stew.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You looked like you could use a home-cooked meal.” She said lightly, looking up at him. “May I?” Omera asked as she lifted a hand towards his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt a shiver run down his spine at the prospect, “I…” Din wavered. “It’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>very </span>
  </em>
  <span>new to me.” He glanced down at her hand. “Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A part of him wanted to forget the feel of the Child’s little fingers touching his cheeks before they were separated. But he wasn’t ready for the sensation of Omera’s fingers brushing over his skin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din’s eyes fell closed and his lips parted as he exhaled shakily. Her hands were warm to the touch against his cheeks, her thumbs stroking over his skin as she marveled at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was better than what he’d imagined. Mostly because it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>real</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Her touch lit a new fire within his soul and he tried to tamp it down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Omera,” He whispered as he opened his eyes to look down at her, struck by just how </span>
  <em>
    <span>beautiful</span>
  </em>
  <span> she was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should get some rest.” She told him, her smile widening as he tried to smile back at her. “Morning comes early during the harvest.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din caught her hand, much like he had once before. But instead of keeping her from touching him, he was silently begging for </span>
  <em>
    <span>more</span>
  </em>
  <span>. More of her fingers wandering over untouched skin, more of her thumb brushing over unkissed lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera curled one hand around the back of his neck, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “I hadn’t been certain, before. You were hard to read. Hard to understand.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I still am.” He admitted, leaning into her touch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Get some rest.” Omera urged him as she rose up on her toes, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek. Only he flinched away from her touch, uncertain of what she was trying to do — reaction fueling his action.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The kiss fell against his lips, instead of his cheek. She froze. He froze. But then he surged to life, kissing her with an unsteady desire, lips smashing against hers and he knew that he was doing it all wrong. He had seen kisses, but he had never shared one until now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But she lingered, hand at his cheek and the other at his waist. It was fleeting — over far too soon as she made an excuse about Winta and retreated before either of them had fully processed what any of this meant. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I underestimated myself. It's going to be more than two chapters. Din needs to be properly romanced.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Omera had been insistent that Din didn’t have to work, but he needed to do </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He couldn’t even lay in bed once he woke up in the morning, otherwise traitorous thoughts would wind their tendrils through his mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had let go of everything he had ever known, allowed himself to break his creed and turn his back on the way and yet, still, he had lost Grogu. It didn’t matter that it was for the best — he needed someone who </span>
  <em>
    <span>understood </span>
  </em>
  <span>him — it cut deeper than the loss that he carried from his own childhood. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hard labor was a blessing that he welcomed with open arms. From first light, till the evening winds blew in Din worked alongside the migrant workers. He hauled flats of krill into the middle of the village where Winta and the other children were put to work preparing them to be taken into the port. Half of the harvest remained for the village, while the other paid the way into a new year. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din had spent plenty of time in the Outer Rim over the years, but seeing day-in and day-out the hard work that went into life for the village made him resent the populace planets and cities of the Core that benefited off the blood, sweat, and tears of the people they claimed to care about. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d never put thought into it, always driven by a singular calling. It was easier to think about the plight of others now as he ignored the war within himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you know where he is?” Omera asked as she handed Din a canteen of water as he leaned against the exterior wall of her house. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din shook his head, “I don’t even know the name of the Jedi. He wanted to go and I… I couldn’t stand in the way of that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Being a parent is hard,” Omera offered, her eyes flickering to where Winta was playing tag with her friends. “We chip away at ourselves so that they don’t have to struggle.” She leaned against the wall beside him, her shoulder pressed against his own. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, still trying to refamiliarize himself with looking </span>
  <em>
    <span>without</span>
  </em>
  <span> the burden of his helmet. He didn’t have to fully turn his body to look at someone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I never expected to find myself in the role of a parent.” He admitted. “Foundlings are a precious part of Mandalorian culture. He was </span>
  <em>
    <span>mine</span>
  </em>
  <span>. We were a clan of two and I only realized what that meant too late.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera gingerly brushed her fingers against his where his arm rested at his side and he was quick to return the gesture, curling his fingers around hers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You will see him again, Din. Children always find their way back.” She assured him, rubbing her thumb over the back of his hand. “Parenting is one tough choice after the other.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din lifted the canteen to his lips, taking a small drink of it. “Is there a story there?” He questioned, following her gaze to Winta. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” She slipped her hand out of his, turning towards him. “You’ve worked long enough today, come in and relax.” Omera told him before brushing too close to him as she stepped around him to retreat inside her home. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din followed, shutting the door closed behind him. “You know I’m not very good at </span>
  <em>
    <span>relaxing.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” He said lightly, cracking a faint smile as she laughed at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>hadn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> noticed.” She teased in return. “You’re the picture of relaxation when you search for it on the HoloNet.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ha.” He folded his arms across his chest, shaking his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera looked at him with a warm smile, the same one that never failed to make his heart beat just a little faster. “It only took you a week to figure out you could smile.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din shrugged a shoulder, awkwardly shuffling forward, before aiming for confidence as he walked towards the kitchen to sit the canteen down. “I owe it all to the good company.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She had been good to him and </span>
  <em>
    <span>for </span>
  </em>
  <span>him. They had danced around each other since that first night. There were little stolen touches, entwined fingers, gentle hands on shoulders in passing — but they hadn’t shared another kiss since that night. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They hadn’t been </span>
  <em>
    <span>alone</span>
  </em>
  <span> since that night either. A part of Din was fine with that. It was all so new for him, so overwhelming. He swore his lips still tingled, days later, from the top-brief brush of her lips. The mere sensation of her fingers sliding in between his own was enough to make his body ache with a need he’d never been allowed to feel. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knew he shouldn’t rush into this. That he shouldn’t use Omera as a crutch to prop up his pain, but he </span>
  <em>
    <span>did </span>
  </em>
  <span>want her, even if he didn’t know where that want would lead him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Din, are you alright?” Omera questioned as she stared at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am.” He blinked slowly, giving a short nod. “Just thinking… about a lot of things.” Din admitted, scratching at the back of his neck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would it help to discuss whatever you’re thinking about?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe over some mead.” He suggested lightly. “Or something stronger.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her brows rose, “Spotchka?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din smiled again, one that came naturally to his lips. “That will definitely help me unwind.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They sat down across from each other at the kitchen table, sipping their spotchka over small talk. It was easier to discuss the inner workings of the village, than it was to discuss the inner workings of his own mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din had quickly gotten the impression that the village didn’t trust him, despite how willingly he lended a helping hand to the harvest. He didn’t begrudge their distrust — there was a reason for it and he respected it. But it was stressful to feel like he was under their microscopic lense, when he was so unfamiliar with being watched to begin with. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the spotchka did the trick that he had hoped it would. Din could feel the slight shift within him as more and more of the blue liquid vanished from his cup. It wasn’t overwhelming, but the warmth of the drink helped him unwind — the muscles of his shoulders no longer so tense as he found himself comfortable enough to laugh without hesitation at the quips Omera made. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What was on your mind?” Omera questioned, propping her chin up on her palm as she leaned against the table. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din rocked his jaw slowly as he considered his words, tapping his fingers against the side of his cup. “The other night—“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera cut him off, “I shouldn’t have.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He blinked, “No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not what I meant.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What did you mean?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din shifted in his seat, “This is all very </span>
  <em>
    <span>new </span>
  </em>
  <span>for me.” He reminded her cautiously, “Not just being without my armor, but… all of it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He watched as the realization crossed her features. Her jaw went slack, before she moved her lips slowly as she tried to find the words to respond with. “Never?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He glanced down at the last swig of spotchka in his cup. “Never.” He knocked it back, taking his time and using the cup to shield his face from her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suppose with the armor…” Omera trailed off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din sat the cup down, staring at it as he rubbed his thumb over the rim of the cup. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Indeed</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He exhaled slowly, lifting his gaze to meet hers. “But it is something…” He leaned against the table. “It’s a desire I </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> want to explore. In time.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In time.” She agreed with him, reaching across the table to rest her hand over his. “I’m sorry if I overstepped.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t.” He assured her, turning her hand over in his hold, rubbing his thumb over the side of it. “I’m glad my inexperience isn’t off-putting.” Din said hesitantly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera smiled kindly at him, “Not at all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“May I ask you a question?” Din asked, waiting for her to nod before he continued, “What happened with Winta’s father?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her smile faded, but she kept her hand in his. “I trust you Din, but this is something that I need your complete discretion on. Even Winta doesn’t know the truth.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The tone of her voice and the look in her gaze swiftly sobered him up. “Your secrets are safe with me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” She squeezed his hand. “I brought Winta to Sorgan when she was barely two. I wanted a better life for her. I made sacrifices to ensure that.” Omera’s gaze fell to the table. “Her father and I were both enlisted in the Imperial Army. I was pressured into enlisting — lured by promises of financial support for my family, safety and security where there had been none before.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see.” Din said as he rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. “I assumed you had training.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera nodded, “If anyone knew the truth…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My opinion of you hasn’t changed.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We never married. There was </span>
  <em>
    <span>discussion</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but nothing certain. But we were at war and I assumed a proposal would be unfitting for the situation. He was a good man, at the beginning. Less of one when he started climbing the ranks. Proximity to power seemed to be a heedy thing for him and… things changed when I discovered I was pregnant with Winta.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din stiffened, a current of anger running through him. If he ever crossed paths with this man, he knew precisely how he wanted to take him down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“After she was born, in passing I told a colleague that I was considering taking an extended leave from the Army. It was the first time he </span>
  <em>
    <span>truly </span>
  </em>
  <span>lashed out.” Omera’s brows furrowed. “The village believes that part of the story. That I came here to escape his violence, but… I made sure that no one would ever face him before I left.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You killed him.” Din said flatly, already recognizing that truth in her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nodded slowly. “I smothered him in his sleep.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As you should’ve.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s been eight years. When the Empire lost, I felt this pride in knowing that even his dreams of the Empire’s victory died with him.” Omera’s shoulders sank like a new weight settled onto them. “I haven’t told anyone. I never intended to.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It doesn’t change anything.” Din told her, gesturing between them with his other hand. “It doesn’t matter where you start, it matters where you end.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have a feeling the village would not feel the same way.” She pulled her hand away from his. “For the past eight years, I have told them that Winta’s father may return, but the reality was that I feared my truth would somehow come out.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your secret is safe with me, Omera.” He assured her. “Just as my secret is safe with you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you.” She sank back in her seat, tucking her hair behind her ears. “Do you think sharing traumatic backstories pass for courtship these days?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din scoffed a little, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t know.” He drummed his fingers against the table. “I’ve got plenty to share.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hope that’s not </span>
  <em>
    <span>all </span>
  </em>
  <span>we share.” She smirked a little, just a glimmer of a promise for something more dancing in her dark gaze. Enough so that he felt heat spike through him and he sat up a little straighter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perhaps you should come over here.” Din suggested, trying to keep his voice as steady as possible. His face he could control, but his voice gave him away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> what you would like?” Omera questioned, scooting her seat back as she rose slowly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din watched her, that same calculated gaze that was hidden behind his helmet, mapping out the trajectory of her path — picturing the </span>
  <em>
    <span>outcome</span>
  </em>
  <span> of this scenario. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the reality was better than his imagination. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera stopped beside him, resting her hand on his shoulder, before sliding her fingers into his hair. “How does it feel?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A faint groan escaped him as his lips opened to speak, “There are no words to describe it. I never knew that touch could be so… </span>
  <em>
    <span>euphoric</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” If someone else was set to touch him, pain usually followed. But this was different. This was pleasure that set him on fire. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With her other hand, Omera tilted his chin towards her, smiling down at him as his eyes fluttered open to meet hers. “It’s a shame you spent so many years concealing this face.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din cracked a laugh, “You’re kind.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re handsome, Din.” She ran her finger down the length of his nose. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He leaned into her touch, rubbing his face against the palm of her hand. “Omera you are… you’re beautiful and… </span>
  <em>
    <span>kind</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It could’ve been </span>
  <em>
    <span>anyone</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Din had traveled around the galaxy for years — he knew of plenty of places he could’ve gone to blow off steam. But it had to be Omera. Sorgan had been the first place he had felt safe, the first time he let himself believe he could be Grogu’s father, the first time he considered a peaceful life with someone else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera spoke to a part of his soul that no one else had ever reached. He’d rebuffed plenty of advances, hands that wandered and tried to coax him into something he didn’t want — but none of it was that way with Omera. Right from the start.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She has lingered with him, long after he left Sorgan. A face that infiltrated his dreams on long, lonely nights. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Din,” Omera whispered, tracing her thumb over his lips gently, waiting until his eyes flickered open. “If it’s too much, I want you to tell me to stop.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din nodded, reaching up to run his fingers along the length of her arm, “I trust you.” But he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>far</span>
  </em>
  <span> from prepared for what she had planned to do. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera straddled his lap, resting her hands on his shoulders as she sat back on his thighs. She didn’t have to put any weight on his groin for every ounce of blood in his body to run straight to his cock. </span>
</p><p><span>His hands flexed, fingers curling into his palms as he tried to figure out if he could</span> <span>touch her and where. Because he wanted to touch her </span><em><span>everywhere</span></em><span>. </span></p><p>
  <span>“How are you?” Omera questioned, shifting forward in his lap just a fraction as she played her fingers through his hair, “Too much?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din licked his lips. “A lot, but not </span>
  <em>
    <span>too</span>
  </em>
  <span> much.” He assured her as he hesitantly patted her leg, running his fingers over the coarse fabric of her skirt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>a lot. His trousers weren’t thick like the pieces he wore beneath his armor. He could feel the heat of her skin through the thin barriers that separated them. That sensation, paired with the way that her fingers were playing through his hair had him overwhelmed in the best of ways.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wanted to cling to this feeling. There was something special about discovering sensations for the first time.  And something even more special about the woman sitting in his lap, waiting for a signal. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din reached up, brushing his knuckles over her cheek before uncurling his fingers and cupping her jaw. “Come here.” He murmured, drawing her downwards to kiss him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a little more confidence this time. His lips slanted against hers, testing the tilt of his head as he deepened the kiss. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera ran her hands over his shoulders, cradled the back of his neck. But she also slid forward on his lap more, seated right atop his aching cock. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had never felt more untouched than in that moment. Every nerve ending in his body seemed to spark to life, flooding his body with a rush of arousal. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din groaned against her lips, breaking away from the kiss to draw in a ragged breath as his hands curled roughly around her hips. “Don’t.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera’s brows furrowed together and she dropped her hands from his shoulders and stilling in his lap. “Do you want me to get up?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shook his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din swallowed thickly, his lips parting to speak. “It’s a </span>
  <em>
    <span>very </span>
  </em>
  <span>good kind of overwhelming.” He assured her, running his hands over her outer thighs. “But I don’t want to stop.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The worry on Omera’s face shifted into a warm smile as she cupped his cheek and leaned in to kiss him again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He loosened his grip on her hips, encouraging her to shift atop him — the friction was </span>
  <em>
    <span>delicious</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Better than any comfort that he’d brought himself in the past. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din pulled back from the kiss, drawing in a shaky breath as he kept his forehead pressed to hers. He ran his fingers over her hair, tangling his fingers into the dark strands. “I want—“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wanted </span>
  <em>
    <span>her</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He wanted to peel off the layers that separated them from each other and explore new sensations. But reality had other plans. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something thumped against the front door, followed swiftly by the giggling of children. Omera barely dismounted him before the door swept open and Winta and several of the other children came running in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mama, can we have a snack? Casha’s mother told us we were too dirty.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera was flustered, but Din had a feeling that only he recognized it. She smoothed her hands over her skirt a half dozen times as she moved to her daughter. “You are </span>
  <em>
    <span>certainly </span>
  </em>
  <span>dirty. But I’ll never say no to snacks. Come, come.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With the children occupied with the promise of snacks, Din excused himself and slipped out the back door of the house. He needed a cold shower, but the cool evening air did the trick too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He perched on the edge of the porch, leaning into the wooden post to his left. He exhaled shakily, pinching at the bridge of his nose as he tried to calm himself down. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Slow</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He wanted to proceed cautiously, but he also wanted to beg her to slip into his bed once Winta fell asleep. Mostly because he didn’t trust himself to be alone with his thoughts, but also because the idea of waking up beside her sounded </span>
  <em>
    <span>nice</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door opened behind him and he counted each step as Omera approached him, “Winta has a </span>
  <em>
    <span>great</span>
  </em>
  <span> sense of timing.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din chuckled, staring out at the treeline. “She does.” He said as picked a piece of lint off his leg, before clasping his hands together. “Are they enjoying their snacks?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, they’re spoiling their appetites for dinner.” Omera laughed briskly, standing just behind him. “And I was planning on making Brualki brisket.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I haven’t spoiled </span>
  <em>
    <span>my </span>
  </em>
  <span>appetite.” Din remarked, turning his head enough to look back at her. “Though, you’ve spoiled me with your meals this week.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera folded her arms across her chest, smiling down at him. “A good home-cooked meal can help with </span>
  <em>
    <span>many </span>
  </em>
  <span>things.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded in agreement, “Better than anything I’m used to.” Din looked down at his hands, picking at a blister that had formed on the side of his thumb from hauling krill all week. “I think I’m going to stay.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When are your friends returning?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not for a few more weeks, but…” He rocked his jaw slowly, pressing his tongue to the inside of his cheek. “I need this.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t stay forever, but he could stay for </span>
  <em>
    <span>now</span>
  </em>
  <span>. At some point, he would have to make peace with Bo-Katan and whatever claim he held to Mandalore. But he could only focus on one situation at a time and for once he was choosing </span>
  <em>
    <span>himself</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din was choosing what he needed to find peace within himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He raised his arm above his head, curling his fingers around the post he was leaning into. Omera took the hint, resting her hand over his in a too-fleeting touch. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>When I started this, I definitely didn't expect there to be so many of you wanting this too. So thank you. I love you all. Also, tags have updated.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Din volunteered to go with the last harvest caravan, trekking across the swamplands to the bustling port town of Opiva to help load the krill onto the last shuttle out for the season. Most of the migrant workers had already moved on, recognizing that shift in the weather as a portent of a brutal winter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite his continued assistance with the harvest, the residents of Sorgan </span>
  <em>
    <span>didn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>trust him. Din marveled at the way they’d listened to him — looked to him for guidance — when he wore beskar. But flesh and bone have them reason to question his motives. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lenair, he learned from one of the </span>
  <em>
    <span>mostly </span>
  </em>
  <span>hospitable villagers, believed that he was Winta’s father. Din didn’t blame the speculation. He hadn’t considered the optics of taking up residence with Omera. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He also learned that some of the other mothers — all of whom were </span>
  <em>
    <span>married</span>
  </em>
  <span> — were talking about Omera behind her back. People didn’t ask questions or cast judgment in the Core worlds. No one would’ve thought twice to judge Omera for taking him in if Sorgan was a bustling city. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the village was </span>
  <em>
    <span>small</span>
  </em>
  <span> and filled with people who were ready to spread rumors and Din was just as much of a novice in that department, as he was with romance. His appearance had sparked a wildfire of speculation and it made him burn with embarrassment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he wore beskar no one questioned his motives. The saw him and saw a Mandalorian who was out for a bounty. But now people looked at him and saw Din Djarin — a suspicious interloper making friends with the woman running from her own past. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Things had simmered down once again after Winta had interrupted them. Din was both thankful and frustrated all the same. As much as he wanted to go all in on these new feelings he permitted himself to </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel</span>
  </em>
  <span> — he didn’t want to inadvertently ruin it in the process. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Three decades of self-imposed ostracization and dedicating his life to strict creed hadn’t done him any favors. But he was smart enough to recognize that he was stunted in that department. Kindness felt like affection to him and he knew that wasn’t the case for everyone else. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In between the strenuous hours of manual labor, Din found himself living for the stolen moments he shared with Omera. But she never pushed for more and neither did he. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Has she told you about the harvest fête?” Questioned one of the harvesters that he was certain was named Tobias. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din blinked, tilting his head towards the man. “Has who told me about </span>
  <em>
    <span>what</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I figured she would’ve asked you to join her at the celebration.” The man continued, shaking his head. Din’s silence prompted him to continue. “The harvest celebration… you’ll see.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the few days they were gone, Sorgan had been transformed. Flickering lights floated above every house, the waters glistened with the twinkling lights, and at the center of the village they had erected a pole with brightly colored fabrics swaying in the breeze around it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>While Din had made an effort to familiarize himself with the celebrations of different cultures, Sorgan had never been a part of his education. He’d mastered communicating with the natives of Tatooine, Naboo, Pasanna, to name just a few — there were too many customs to know them all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Welcome back,” Omera said warmly as he stepped inside the home, shedding his thick cloak and hanging it by the door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look what I’m doing!” Winta said excitedly as she sat winding ribbons and flowers into her mother’s hair. “Doesn’t mama look beautiful?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your mother always looks beautiful.” Din said with a slight smile as he shuffled further inside. “What is the occasion?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera’s brows furrowed briefly, before her eyes widened. “I didn’t tell you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Winta giggled, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Mama</span>
  </em>
  <span>! You didn’t tell him about the harvest celebration?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hush, baby.” Omera reached behind her and patted Winta’s hip. “Why don’t you go make sure you have your best shoes ready.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But—“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No buts.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din watched as Omera gave Winta a warning look, before shooing her out of the living area. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I meant to tell you, but then you left with the harvest.” She said as she moved towards him. “It’s nothing. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Truly</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It doesn’t seem like </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Din stared at her. “The village looks almost… magical.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s just a yearly celebration. The children look forward to it the most. We all get together to cook sweet treats for them, exchanging them between households.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din nodded, “Like Life Day?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Except it’s strictly for the harvest,” She explained, wringing her hands together. “It’s a celebration for a plentiful harvest, giving thanks and hoping the next cycle will be as kind.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see.” Din cocked his head to the side. “Tobias said there was dancing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did he now?” Her hands went to her lips and she laughed. “Well, there </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span>. There’s drinking, and singing, and dancing.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That sounds like a lot.” Din shifted from his heels to the balls of his feet. “I hope you and Winta enjoy yourselves.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should come, Din.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shook his head. “I get the distinct impression that </span>
  <em>
    <span>most </span>
  </em>
  <span>of the village has only a feigned tolerance for me. I don’t want to be the reason that the next harvest fails.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Din</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been perched on the back of a cart for three days.” He stepped towards her, reaching for both of her hands. “I need a shower and a </span>
  <em>
    <span>long</span>
  </em>
  <span> night of sleep.” He rubbed his thumbs over the backs of her hands. “You really do look beautiful.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera ducked her head, “You should come. It won’t be the same without you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I need to decompress,” Din told her, exhaling slowly. “As much as I would like to go with you. I wouldn't be very good company.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Alright</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” She lifted his hand to her lips, pressing a kiss to each knuckle. “If you’re still awake, the children usually go to the common house for the evening.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din’s brows rose upwards, “No interruptions?” Omera shook her head and he continued. “Let me catch a few hours of sleep and then… we’ll see what happens.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She smiled up at him, “Nothing has to happen. You know that, right?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He cracked a smile, releasing his hold on her hand to cup her cheek. “I do, but maybe I want it to.” Din leaned down and pressed his forehead to hers, closing his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite how noisy the festivities were, Din had no problem falling to sleep. He’d slept in louder situations — he was used to just getting sleep wherever he could. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had taken his armor for granted. Behind the beskar he didn’t have to exert the energy to be “on” around other people. Blank stares and silence worked. But as </span>
  <em>
    <span>just</span>
  </em>
  <span> Din he had to focus on his emotions, his expressions, and conversation. Three things he’d never been very good at. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Venturing out with the other labourers had felt right until he was listening to them commiserate about life and he came up empty with what to offer in return. People expected the silence to be filled with idle conversation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few hours later Din roused from his sleep, venturing out into the kitchen to fix himself some of the roast Omera had left behind for him. If he hadn’t been working long hours tending to the krill harvest, he had a feeling that he would’ve put on a few pounds. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he’d had the Razor Crest he’d survived on MREs and broth (which was easy to procure at every port). But now, every night, he sat across the table from Omera and ate heavy dinners that stayed with him. Delicious meats, fresh breads, and desserts that he’d never knew existed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t just surviving now, he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>living</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At some point during the evening the music shifted, it was almost imperceptible, but that subtle change brought Omera home with it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her hair had come loose from the thick woven braid, dark strands of flyaways framing her flushed cheeks. It was quite cool outside and he wasn’t sure if the tinge of pink on her cheeks came from exertion or chill. A part of him wanted to be the reason for the exertion that brought a flush to her cheeks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you have fun?” Din questioned, throwing off the blanket he had draped over his lap and rising from his seat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera smiled at him as she moved towards him, “It was a magical night, but all I could think about was coming back here.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din took a step forward, “I watched out the window for a few minutes. I’m rather surprised by Sorgan’s willingness to celebrate, considering how they are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She covered her mouth as she laughed, shaking her head. “They know how to let loose when it matters.” Omera held out a hand to him, “But you did miss out on dancing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stared at her hand, “I never learned.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s never too late to learn.” She wiggled her fingers to entice him to take her hand. “If you’ve learned how to smile, I think you can learn how to dance.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His heart was pounding in his chest. He could feel his pulse drumming in his neck, echoing in his ears. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera had a point. He’d already managed to unlearn so much — he could still learn new things. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din reached out and took her hand into his, stepping towards her until they were foot-to-foot. “I feel like I should apologize </span>
  <em>
    <span>before</span>
  </em>
  <span> we start.” He cracked a small smile. “I’m going to step on your feet.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She laughed softly, “I don’t mind.” Omera took his hand and placed it at her waist. “Just </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel </span>
  </em>
  <span>the music.” She told him as she interlaced their fingers and stepped close to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was hyper-aware of every point where their bodies touched and even more aware. Her hand was warm in his, her fingers sliding in between his as they swayed together. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve got it.” Omera assured him, even as he shuffled his feet and landed right on her foot. “It’s alright, Din.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m trying.” He mumbled, following her lead as she took a few steps back and turned them. One. Two. Three. There was a rhythm to the music and the way she moved them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looked up at him, “You’re a natural.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din huffed, “And you’re a liar.” He ran his hand from her waist, around to the small of her back which drew her closer to him. “But this is nice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera moved her hand from his shoulder to curl around the back of his neck, playing with the hair that curled against his nape. “We don’t have to do </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span> tonight.” She whispered, her eyes flickering to his lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He lowered his head until their noses brushed, breath mingling between their lips. “Aren’t we already doing </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Din whispered, tilting his chin to kiss her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din ran his hand up the length of her back as he drew her in closer than she already was. She slid her arms over his shoulders, leaning up to meet his lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The beat of the music beyond the house picked up and Din swore that it echoed the drumming of his own pulse as it picked up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera let one hand travel back down his chest between them, before settling at his waist. Her fingers plucked at the fabric of his shirt that was tucked into his trousers. “Din—“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Yes</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He breathed out against her lips, before kissing her with new desperation. Din tried to control himself, but he still moaned against her lips when her nimble fingers found bare skin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>No one hand ever stroked their fingers over the skin there. That one touch set him on fire. His skin tingled in the wake of her touch, but it followed her fingers as she slid her hand beneath his shirt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din broke away from the kiss, breathing raggedly as he met her eyes. He was dizzy with desire for her and it didn’t help that she was looking at him like </span>
  <em>
    <span>that. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Like she wanted him to, that she was burning the same as him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He reached out and brushed his knuckles over cheek, “Should we…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that what you want?” Omera questioned, curling her fingers around his arm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din’s brows rose slowly, his lips parting as he searched for the right answer. He wanted her, he wanted this, but that cautious voice in the back of his head still told him that he’d broken every vow that he once believed in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want you to come to bed with me,” He told her firmly, his hands going to his hips. “And we’ll see where things go.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera smirked at him, “Is that the tone you used with bounties?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din felt his cheeks warm, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” If only he had half of the confidence that he had hauling in bounties for this moment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Falling into bed with Omera felt </span>
  <em>
    <span>right</span>
  </em>
  <span>, regardless of what the voice in the back of his head told him. He’d laid there alone, night after night, and wondered what it would feel like to have someone there beside him. Fantasies were nice, but the reality was even sweeter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din cradled the back of her neck, molding his body to hers as he kissed her lip, her jaw, her throat. He let instinct guide him, fueled by a blinding need for </span>
  <em>
    <span>her</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She pulled him towards her, sinking back into the mattress as he carefully positioned himself over her. Her hands slipped beneath his shirt, skimming high up his back as she tilted her head to claim his mouth once more. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was no hiding the way he responded to her, he knew that she could feel his cock pressed against her hip as he let his weight press her into the mattress. It didn’t help that his knee was planted between her thighs and she kept grinding into him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera drew back from the kiss, peppering his lips with little kisses before sinking back onto the bed beneath him. “How are you feeling?” She questioned, running her hands up his clothed arms. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din licked his lips as he looked down at her, “Like we’re both overdressed.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think that’s a first for you.” She teased lightly, leaning up to kiss his chin as her fingers curled around the hem of his shirt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sat back on his knees, helping her peel off his shirt and toss it over the side of the bed. He was more exposed than he had ever been in the company of someone else and yet he didn’t feel like hiding himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera chewed on her bottom lip as studied his newly bared skin. He had scars that marred his tanned flesh, pink and puckered from poor attempts at cauterizing his own wounds, faded scars from those times that he had bacta patches to tend to himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din closed his eyes, his breathing shallow as he focused on the sensation of her fingers tracing over those scars, touching him where he had never been touched before. His stomach muscles trembled as she lightly scraped her nails through the dusting of dark hair that dipped below his trousers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Kriff</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He swore, his entire being going rigid as her fingers ghosted over the rather prominent bulge in his trousers. That snapped him back into reality, he snatched up her wrists and pinned them back against the bed above her head. He didn’t even realize what he had done until he opened his eyes and found himself nose to nose with her, breathing raggedly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din loosened his grip on her almost immediately, rolling onto the bed beside her. “I’m sorry.” He breathed out, pressing the heels of his palms to his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” Omera whispered, rolling into his side. “It’s alright, Din. I shouldn’t have…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>No</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He shook his head, exhaling heavily. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera pried his hands away from his face, making him turn to look at her, “You didn’t.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His brows furrowed together as she searched her face. “You just took me by surprise.” Which wasn’t an excuse, but he hadn’t been able to control his reflexes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She brushed her fingers over his scruffy cheeks, cradling his cheek in her palm. “Do you want me to leave?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din shook his head, reaching out to rest his hand at her hip, his fingers fanning out there. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Stay</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He whispered, leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead. “I’m sorry.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera shook her head, resting her hand over his at her hip. “It’s alright, Din.” She gave his hand a squeeze before reaching up to cup his cheek again, “I’m not going anywhere.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He smiled warmly at her, “You’re too kind to me, Omera.” He whispered, raking his hand up her side. Din shifted closer to her, brushing his lips against hers gently. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She smiled against his lips. “You’re not used to kindness, are you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din shook his head, swallowing thickly. “I’m not and…” He trailed off. He recognized that he was so unfamiliar with kindness and affection that he confused the two. That a gentle touch set his blood ablaze, the same as the feeling of her body grinding against his. It stoked the same fire and he knew that was from three decades of being untouched </span>
  <em>
    <span>and </span>
  </em>
  <span>unloved. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And?” Omera questioned, brushing his hair away from his forehead. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know that I care for you.” Din said, his brows furrowing together. “That this isn’t just because… you’re here.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” She smiled at him. “I care for you too, Din. I did even before I knew your name. Sometimes you just can’t control how you feel about someone.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought of you often and wondered what life might be like if I came back here. But I wasn’t ready and… I’m still working to get to that point.” Din admitted, trying to unburden himself of the war in his own head. “Make no mistake, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> you.” He curled his arm around her and pulled her towards him so he could press his face into the crook of her neck and hide from himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera pressed close to him, winding her fingers through his hair. “I’m glad to hear that confirmed.” She teased lightly, letting her hand wander down his bare back. “I hope the wait is worth it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din huffed out a laugh, nuzzling at her shoulder. “I doubt you’ll disappoint, but I can’t promise the same.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She laughed, pressing her lips to the side of his head. “Don’t be so hard on yourself.” Omera scaped her nails over his skin lightly and he shuddered and arched towards her in response. “You learn quickly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have been told I’m adaptable,” Din remarked as he shifted away from her enough to meet her gaze. “Hands </span>
  <em>
    <span>above </span>
  </em>
  <span>the waist for now, alright?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera nodded, “You lead.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din brushed his fingers over the curve of her jaw as he leaned in to kiss her again. It was a hesitant kiss at first, mostly on his part as he forced himself to relax again. But then he let himself get lost in the sensation as he laid her back against the bed and draped himself over her body again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The skirt of her dress rose upwards as she moved beneath him and he greedily found himself palming at the supple flesh of her bare hip. Every slow roll of her hips as she grinded the apex of her thighs against his leg, supplied him with the most </span>
  <em>
    <span>delicious</span>
  </em>
  <span> friction. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din dragged his mouth away from hers, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses down her throat and over the bare skin of her chest where the neck of her dress lay open. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re beautiful,” He whispered as he brushed hair away from her cheeks, stealing another kiss from her lips. “So </span>
  <em>
    <span>kriffing</span>
  </em>
  <span> beautiful.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re pretty easy on the eyes too.” Omera said lightly as she pushed her fingers through his hair. “Do you want to stop?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din rubbed his lips together as he looked down at her. “Yes </span>
  <em>
    <span>and </span>
  </em>
  <span>no.” He told her, stroking his fingers over the bare skin of her hip, glancing downwards as he watched his thumb trail over her soft skin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What if you showed me how you take care of yourself?” Omera suggested, sitting up slowly until she was facing him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He exhaled shakily, giving a slight nod in response. “That could work.” He told her, before moving to lay down on the bed beside her. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He hissed out through clenched teeth as he scrubbed his hands over his face and dragged them through his hair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera rolled onto her side, resting her palm against his bare chest, rubbing the pads of her fingers against his skin. “Take your time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din let his head turn to the side to face her, “What about you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She reached up and brushed her thumb over his lips, “Right now this is about you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He held her gaze as he reached downwards and loosened the fastenings holding his trousers closed. Din freed his cock, loosely curling his fingers around himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera shifted closer to him, pressing her lips to his shoulder. “That’s it, Din.” She encouraged, watching him as he worked his hand over the length of his cock. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Omera</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He whispered, a strained groan rising up the back of his throat as he picked up the pace of his movements. There was no pretending that he wasn’t right on the cusp, wound up tighter than a spring because of her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just let go,” Omera told him, cupping his cheek. “Come for me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Who was he to say ‘no’ to that request?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pure lust shot through him, hotter than a blaster bolt and he rocked his hips upwards as his release spilled out across his lower belly. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He grunted out, idly stroking himself as he melted into the soft bedding beneath him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait right there.” Omera whispered as she pressed a kiss to his lips. “I’ll get you something to clean up with.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din flashed her a lazy grin as he watched her slip out of the bedroom. Despite how good he felt, there was still a current of guilt that landed heavy in his gut. But he could live with that guilt or at least he would convince himself that he could. </span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>*fans self* it's a toasty one. I'm going to go ahead and update the rating AND the tags.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It had been </span>
  <em>
    <span>years </span>
  </em>
  <span>since Din had seen the covert so filled with life. Fellow Mandalorians passed him in the corridor, foundlings rushed up the stairs as he descended them. Things hadn’t felt like that since… everything fell apart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Armourer stood at the forge, the sound of the hammer skittering against the anvil echoing through the hallowed space. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hallowed</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Din couldn’t recall ever consciously viewing that space as a hallowed ground. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sat aside the hammer, but the echo of worked metal still reverberated through his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you removed your helmet in front of another?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>No</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Din answered before he could stop himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Somehow she knew. He could feel her judgement through the cold, unfeeling, glare of her helmet. “You </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He swallowed thickly and took a step backwards. “I had to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> to betray the most sacred tenant of our creed?” She questioned sternly. “Reveal yourself time and time again? After </span>
  <em>
    <span>your</span>
  </em>
  <span> people bled for your survival? You disgust me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din froze. “In order to fulfill my quest, sacrifices had to be made. There was no other way.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And </span>
  <em>
    <span>Sorgan</span>
  </em>
  <span> was part of that quest?” The Armourer stood toe-to-toe with him. “Remove your armor. You are no Mandalorian.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He reached for his helmet, instinct to obey driving him, but he hesitated. “There are others. Like us. They remove their helmets. They live like </span>
  <em>
    <span>people</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They do not understand what it means to be a Mandalorian and neither do you.” The Armourer said firmly. “You have forfeited the right to call yourself a Mandalorian.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Armourer ripped his helmet off his head, tossing it into the flames without ceremony. Din watched in horror as the beskar helmet turned to molten beskar, spilling out of the forge and leaking into the ground. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>No</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” He cried out, lunging forward as if he could reclaim what was stolen from him. But everything vanished from sight as he fell into the darkness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Din.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Din.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Din!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din’s eyes flew open and he panicked when nothing looked </span>
  <em>
    <span>right</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Where was he? Where was the Child? Why was someone staring down at him? Why could he feel air against his cheeks?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re having a night terror.” The woman rested her palm against his cheek, whispering a gentle lullaby as she tried to soothe him. “Din, you need to wake up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where’s Grogu?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You told me that you sent him away to train.” She answered, stroking her thumb over the rise of his cheekbone. “Are you back with me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din blinked slowly as reality gradually returned to him. There was no covert, no Armourer, not even his armor anymore. None of that was real, but Omera was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” He breathed, sitting up a little as he rubbed at his eyes. “Did I wake you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera grimaced a little as she admitted, “I could hear you from across the hall.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” Din glanced to the side, staring at the window and the inky black night. “I’m sorry, it was… a complicated memory.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You had me worried,” She reached out and ruffled her fingers through his hair. “Would you like me to stay?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about Winta?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She would probably appreciate a night of sleep without me stealing the covers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span> a thief.” Din retorted dryly, a faint smirk playing at his lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera hadn’t spent the night beside him since the harvest fête. She had given him space — yet again — to figure out what he wanted on his own, without the burden of being a disappointment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that a ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>yes</span>
  </em>
  <span>,’ Din?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded, scooting over on the bed and drawing down the blankets for her. “Come here.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good. It’s cold.” She said as she slid beneath the covers, curling in close to him. “Do you want to talk about the nightmare?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s just…” He sighed, curling his arm around her, “I’m trying to work through all of this. To make amends with my past and my present.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve been through a lot. Don’t be hard on yourself.” Omera whispered, stroking her fingers over his bare arm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you tell my subconscious that?” Din huffed, shaking his head. “I thought it would get better. But these nightmares…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is it because your friends are coming?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He ran his hand up and down the length of her back. It was only then that he realized she was only wearing the thin shift she wore to sleep in. She hadn’t even stripped down to just that after—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re tense.” Omera pointed out, cupping his cheek. “Look at me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din let his gaze flicker to hers. “I’m alright. I just… I need to sleep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt like he was floundering all over again as he grappled with a shifting opinion of </span>
  <em>
    <span>himself</span>
  </em>
  <span>. That guilt he felt on the heels of pleasure had been a swift blow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Sleep</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” She whispered, rubbing her thumb against his cheek. “I’ll be right here.” Omera let her gaze linger on his face for a moment longer, before she rolled over beneath his arm and settled back against his chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The nightmare tried to return. He closed his eyes and found himself walking down a familiar corridor, spotting painted armour he’d grown up beside, but he forced himself awake when he spotted the Armourer at the end of the long corridor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everything he had been raised to believe </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>wrong. He knew that to be true now and there was no going back on that. The extremism that had kept him isolated and alone throughout his adult life had been for </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What did he get from following the creed? Aside from learning how to fumble through being attracted to someone. Anyone with less patience than Omera would’ve already set him out on his ass, he was certain of that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But she was right there in his arms when he awoke, nestled into the bend of his body like she was made to fit against him. The sun had only just started to creep above the horizon, painting the bedroom in hues of gold and lavender. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din ran his fingers down the length of her arm, his heart beating a little faster as she shifted back against him. He tried to suppress the groan that rose up his throat as her ass pressed against his cock, but he had little control over that response. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera stirred, turning her head to press her lips to the arm that was trapped beneath her. “Morning.” She mumbled against his skin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hummed softly, trailing his fingers down to rest at her hip. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Omera</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He whispered as he palmed at her hip gently. The fabric of her sleep shift was so thin, it felt like he was practically touching her skin, warm beneath his palm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A shaky breath escaped her as she moved against him, providing just enough friction to drive him up the proverbial wall. Omera reached behind her, curling her fingers around the back of Din’s neck, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Good</span>
  </em>
  <span> morning.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din groaned as he pressed his lips to her shoulder. “I could get used to this.” He said as he skimmed his hand up her waist, his fingers glancing over the side of her breast. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So could I,” Omera whispered as she took ahold of his hand, drawing it down to cover her breast. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” She moaned softly as he palmed at her breast and the sound went straight to his cock. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could feel the way her nipple pulled taut beneath his palm and he explored her response to him as he dragged the tip of his thumb over the pebbled peak. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another moan escaped her, but this time his name spilled from her lips and he felt like he was going to go mad laying there beside her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera rolled onto her back, fisting at the hair at the back of his head as she pulled him down to her. Din flexed his fingers as he regained the feeling in the arm that had been caught beneath her, planting his hand on the bed by her head as he draped himself over her, getting lost in the taste of her lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her hands wandered down the bare expanse of his back, nails lightly scraping over his skin and making him shudder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din grabbed at her thigh, fingers slowing inching the thin material up her leg until it was bunched around her hips. He broke away from her lips, his breathing coming out in shaky uneven breaths. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is it?” Omera questioned, cupping his cheek as she looked up at him. “Do you want to stop?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Did he? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He swallowed thickly and shook his head. “I want to… </span>
  <em>
    <span>help </span>
  </em>
  <span>you.” The words stuck in the back of his throat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera’s brows rose upwards in surprise, “You want to help— </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” She grinned up at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din felt heat bloom at his cheeks, “You helped me, but we didn’t…” He cleared his throat awkwardly, “I want you to show me how to get you off.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sit back against the headboard.” She told him, giving his chest a little shove. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His heart was hammering in his chest and Din was surprised that Omera couldn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>hear </span>
  </em>
  <span>how loud it was beating. He grabbed a pillow to prop himself up against as he settled back against the headboard. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din watched Omera with rapt attention as she pulled off her shift, leaving absolutely </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing</span>
  </em>
  <span> to the imagination. His eyes traveled over her bare breasts before settling on the dark patch of her at the ‘v’ of her thighs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d seen images of naked people before. It wasn’t as though he </span>
  <em>
    <span>hadn</span>
  </em>
  <span>’</span>
  <em>
    <span>t</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The HoloNet had plenty of scandalous content on it and he’d been to enough dens of scum and villainy to see his fair share of… but, </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re perfect.” Din breathed out, drinking in every curve of her body he could feast his eyes on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> good at flattery,” Omera teased as she moved towards him. She knelt beside him, “I want you to touch me, Din.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I don’t—“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just want to see what you do.” She told him, reaching out to use the headboard for leverage as she leaned over him and pressed her lips to his. “I trust you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din brushed his nose against hers, offering her a hesitant smile as he looked up at her, “More than I trust myself right now.” He told her, before kissing her again, his lips sliding over hers gently as he trailed his fingers down her back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was fairly certain he could get addicted to the feeling of her skin beneath his fingers. Omera was warm and </span>
  <em>
    <span>real</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and so deliriously responsive to his touch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera straddled his thigh, her knee pressed against the mattress between her legs as she draped herself over him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din’s hand slid around to cup her breast, palming at it gently now that he wasn’t hindered by fabric. He stroked his thumb over her nipple, watching her face as her lips parted and she panted out his name. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you like that?” He questioned, brushing hair behind her cheek as he met her gaze. She nodded slowly, grinding against his clothed thigh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let me show you,” Omera took ahold of his hand, guiding it down her stomach towards the apex of her thighs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din groaned as his fingers made contact with the slick folds of her cunt. “I don’t… </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He lifted his gaze back to her face as she drew her own hand away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I sit on your lap?” Omera questioned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” Din nodded as pulled his hand away from her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She settled onto his lap, leaning back against his chest and resting her cheek against his shoulder. “We don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>have </span>
  </em>
  <span>to do this.” She reminded him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shook his head as he gingerly ran his hands over her thighs, “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> to.” Din assured her, stroking his thumb in a tight circle against her inner thigh as his other hand traveled upwards to fondle her breast again. “I want to make you feel good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera pressed her lips to his throat, “You do.” She reached down and took ahold of his hand, interlacing her fingers with his. “Just follow my lead.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din exhaled shakily as willed himself to relax and let her guide his movements. She showed him how to tease her slicks folds, gathering up her arousal on his fingertips to ease his movements. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was </span>
  <em>
    <span>so </span>
  </em>
  <span>responsive. He didn’t think he’d ever forget just how </span>
  <em>
    <span>good </span>
  </em>
  <span>his name sounded on her lips, intermingled with little moans and breathy sighs. And then there was the way that she squirmed in his lap every time his fingers brushed over that little bundle of nerves between her thighs. Her reaction set his own blood on fire and he </span>
  <em>
    <span>ached </span>
  </em>
  <span>for his own release. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But his singular focus was on her. Her pleasure was his new quest, his new desire. And Omera pulled her hand away from his, letting him take the lead on bringing her that pleasure. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was an element to it that just seemed intuitive. It was like learning the tells in battle, as long as he focused on the subtle changes in her breathing or the way that she shifted her hips everytime he teased her right — he knew that he would succeed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din worked two fingers into her as he circled his thumb over her clit. He must’ve done </span>
  <em>
    <span>something </span>
  </em>
  <span>right because Omera’s inner walls clenched around his fingers and he felt the swift rush of arousal that soaked his fingers as she came apart for him. He dwelled on that key part too. He’d done </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He’d turned her into molten desire and pulled the sweetest sounds from her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera scraped her nails up the length of his forearm, idly playing with the soft hair that covered his skin. “Like I said… you’re a </span>
  <em>
    <span>quick </span>
  </em>
  <span>learner.” She mumbled as she pressed her lips to his throat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din rested his cheek against the top of her head, letting out a shaky laugh at that. “It’s like learning how to use a new weapon.” He remarked as he lazily stroked his fingers over the soft flesh of her inner thigh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Really</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Omera questioned, before descending into a quiet fit of laughter. “Like a weapon?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well,” He swallowed thickly. “Yes?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Din.” She managed in between laughs as she maneuvered herself on his lap, draping her legs over his thighs so she was facing him, but very pointedly </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>sitting astride him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” He cocked his head to the side, “It’s all about figuring out how to use it—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera kissed him to shut him up and Din didn’t have a single qualm about it. He wrapped his arms around her, running his hands up and down her back as he let himself get lost in the kiss. In </span>
  <em>
    <span>her</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He just wanted to crawl inside that moment and stay where the past couldn’t reach him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the past </span>
  <em>
    <span>could </span>
  </em>
  <span>reach him. It was tightly wrapped around his very being and he couldn’t just let go of it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din caught Omera’s hand as she ran it down his stomach, stopping her before she could reach his aching cock. He tried to soften the gesture by interlacing their fingers together, rubbing his thumb over the side of her hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry.” Omera whispered as she drew back and pressed her forehead to his. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shook his head, tilting his head to brush his lips against hers before leaning back against the headboard. “Don’t apologize.” He stroked his fingers over her cheek gently, sliding his thumb over her bottom lip as he met her gaze. “It has nothing to do with you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you want me to leave so you can handle it alone?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“<em>N</em></span>
  <em>
    <span>o</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Din answered without hesitation, grabbing ahold of her hips to keep her right where she was seated. “It’s going to be over embarrassingly fast.” He admitted, feeling like even his ears were burning with the blush that had stained his cheeks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera laughed brightly, a sound that warmed him straight through to his soul. “Do I seem like I would judge you for that, Din?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His brows drew together before rising upwards, “No?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera arched a brow at him, shaking her head a little with amusement before she brushed her fingers over his collarbone. “May I?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din swallowed thickly, considering her offer as he rubbed his thumbs over the bend where her hip met her thigh. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Please</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” The word slipped past his lips with surprising ease, considering he wasn’t entirely certain he could remember his own name in that moment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was </span>
  <em>
    <span>so </span>
  </em>
  <span>gentle with him. Omera took her time to press kisses to his jaw and throat as her hand traveled down his chest and stomach, tracing the same route down to the waist of his pants. It was all so </span>
  <em>
    <span>new</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was used to the weight of his own hand, the relief he could bring himself, but it was such a foreign sensation to feel someone else’s fingers exploring untouched flesh. She cupped him through his pants, before making quick work of the fastenings keeping them closed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Din hissed out as she slipped her hand inside, his hips bucking upwards as her fingers brushed over the straining length of his cock. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve got you.” Omera reminded him gently as she cupped his jaw. “Look at me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His lashes fluttered as he lifted his gaze to meet hers. “Omera, I’m…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Shh</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” She leaned in to kiss him as her fingers curled around his cock. All it took was three short pumps of her fist and he came apart with a strangled sound that got lost between their lips. “That’s it, Din.” She urged him, loosely stroking him as she peppered kisses to the corners of his mouth. “So </span>
  <em>
    <span>good</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din idly stroked his hand down her back as he basked in that warm glow of relief. He felt better than he had in a </span>
  <em>
    <span>long </span>
  </em>
  <span>time. Safe, warm, content. He didn’t have to keep moving through life, trying to keep ahead of himself. He could </span>
  <em>
    <span>stay</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Omera?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I’m in love with you.” </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>*jazz hands* I rewrote this chapter four times and I'm still mentally playing the TikTok "oh no" sound in my head.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>*points at tags*</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>After the first snowfall, Sorgan grew quiet. The harvest was through, the last of the krill pools had been prepared for winter, and people stayed in their homes for most of the day. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, during the warmer period of the day, Din would catch sight of a few children playing in the center of the village, a few villagers trading with vendors as they passed through town. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He entertained Winta with tales from his brief encounter with the ice spider on Maldo Kreis. With a little distance it was easy to reflect on the defeat that he had felt in that moment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something about that brush with the New Republic had shaken him. Then he felt as though he had failed his quest, failed his passenger, and he felt a bitter sting that he hadn’t truly reckoned with until weeks later. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Winta wanted stories about the Child — about Grogu. He didn’t blame her for wanting to know more and he didn’t stop her, even as Omera offered to keep her occupied with chores. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had never been very good at stories, never had a reason to be. Mandalorians were a secretive bunch and while they relied on oral histories to pass on traditions, his own covert preferred one singular member maintaining that knowledge and he’d never been privy to the stories. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stories kept him occupied, though they were a pale substitution for the distraction of manual labor. He missed keeping his hands busy, keeping his muscles strained and exhausted after a long day of hard work. But it helped that he kept the stories of his bounty hunter days to a strictly pre-Grogu era. Even if those were the stories that Winta wanted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re good with her,” Omera said warmly as she looked down at her daughter. She had cozied up under a blanket and wound up snoring against his arm in a matter of minutes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s easily entertained.” Din’s lips twitched upwards at the corners with a small smile as he looked down at her. “I’m envious of how easy she can fall asleep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right?” She shook her head before crouching down beside the sofa. “Hey stardust, why don’t you go get dressed for bed?” Omera cupped her cheek as she drowsily awoke. “I’ll be in to tuck you in soon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Winta nestled against his arm, “I’m comfortable.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, but I think Din would like his arm back.” She gave Winta’s shoulder a squeeze. “Come on.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fine</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” She sighed dramatically as she begrudgingly got up off the sofa and trudged down the hallway to her room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s a good kid.” Din said, raking his fingers through his hair as he scooted over to make space for Omera to sit where Winta had been seated. “You’ve done very well raising her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera smiled, her eyes still fixed on the hallway that Winta had gone down. “I worry sometimes that she’ll be like her father or that she’ll resent me for </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>having a father.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s lucky she was so young.” Din told her, running his hand over her back. “She can’t remember him. It makes it easier.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She tilted her head to look at him, “You’ve never mentioned your parents. I always assumed you were born into the Mandalorian… </span>
  <em>
    <span>way</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din scraped his teeth over his bottom lip, “I was a foundling. My parents died during the Clone Wars.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera frowned, “I’m so sorry.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was as old as Winta is.” He explained further, brows furrowed as he </span>
  <em>
    <span>tried </span>
  </em>
  <span>to remember what his father’s face looked like. But he’d had so few reasons to tell someone, to discuss the trauma of that moment. “We were attacked by droids. Battle droids.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d had good reason to despise droids. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera reached out to brush her fingers over his cheek, toying with the soft hair that fell around his ears. “Do you remember them?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not really,” He admitted quietly. “I was named after my mother… </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dinah</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He worked his jaw slowly. “My father, I remember clinging to his shoulders. I didn’t want to let go, but… they tried to save me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And they did.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Din sighed, sinking back against the sofa, trying to appear less affected than he really was. “Mandalorian showed to fight against the Separatists and that was the day I entered the covert.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As a child?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded. “I trained daily. There were these rigorous drills, mental and physical. They took us through the paces, taught us the tenets we were meant to uphold in return for safety, family, protection.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Family?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din tilted his head, “Not a conventional one. I never had someone in my life like Winta has with you. There were many adults who had a part in my upbringing.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you never saw them?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who was there to comfort you if you had a nightmare?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I had myself.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera frowned at him. “You lost your parents and no one </span>
  <em>
    <span>comforted</span>
  </em>
  <span> you? No one held you when you cried?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din pressed his lips together as he stared back at her, “You were the first.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Din…” She cupped his cheek. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He leaned into her touch, “I know you need to go tuck her in, but… Can we talk about the other night?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera’s expression sobered a little, but she nodded nevertheless. “Let’s talk in a minute.” She leaned in and brushed her nose against his, before pulling away and retreating from the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din silently cursed himself for the sheer </span>
  <em>
    <span>stupidity </span>
  </em>
  <span>that had escaped his mouth. He couldn’t tell which was worse — admitting that he loved her after a handful of weeks, or doing so after he’d spilled out all over her hand after a mediocre amount of time? Both seemed like a reason to crawl into a hole and die.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He </span>
  <em>
    <span>did </span>
  </em>
  <span>love her, but he hadn’t intended for it to just escape his mouth like that. It clearly wasn’t what Omera wanted to hear either. She’d quickly escaped the bedroom to fetch something to clean him up with, but was gone for far too long. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Feelings had never been part of this unconventional situation of theirs. He realized that now. She was kind and patient enough to put up with his fears and hesitations when it came to a physical relationship, but love… love was so much </span>
  <em>
    <span>more. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Din pressed the heels of his palms against his eye sockets, exhaling heavily as he sank back against the sofa. He felt defeated. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If only he had kept his mouth </span>
  <em>
    <span>shut</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But in that moment, he’d felt better than he had in years. The endorphins were running high and he had felt safe. Safe enough to let down the last of his guard and then she’d slipped out of his grasp. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Din?” Omera questioned and he pulled his hands away from his face as he opened his eyes to look at her. “Are you okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gave a low and bitter sounding chuckle to that, “Sure.” Din rolled his shoulders back, “No. I’m sorry for the other day, I shouldn’t have said what I did.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera folded her arms across her chest, “So you didn’t mean it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din stared, “Why do you look disappointed at the prospect of that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You truly are a man.” She shook her head slowly, before moving to join him on the sofa. “Don’t apologize for what you said if you meant it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He rubbed his hands together nervously, “I mean… I </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> feel that way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So do I.” Omera reached for his hand, curling her fingers around his. “But when I came back from getting a washcloth, you looked mortified and I didn’t want to press it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did?” Din grimaced a little as he looked at her. “I thought you just didn’t want to discuss it. It wasn’t my finest moment.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She brought his hand to her lips. “When your friends return are you… Are you leaving with them?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din shook his head, “I’m staying here.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then say it again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His breath caught in the back of his throat. Omera didn’t make it easy for him to focus as she climbed onto his lap, straddling him on the sofa. Din ran his hands up her thighs to grasp at her hips, “I love you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera leaned in to claim his mouth with a greedy kiss, before those same words spilled from her lips. “I love you too, Din.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din gently curled his fingers around the back of her head as he crashed into her, kissing her like his life depended on it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She rolled her hips in such a tantalizing way, grinding down against his cock and drawing it to life. His fingers grabbed at the heavy fabric of her dress, trying to peel it up her hips further, he wanted to touch her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wanted </span>
  <em>
    <span>more</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Knowing that his feelings were returned was the precise confidence booster that he was desperate for. Love ran deeper than their sexual desires for each other — he was safe, even if he was devastatingly bad. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera tugged his shirt out of the waistband of his pants, drawing it upwards enough to run her hands over the bare skin of his chest. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Din</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” She breathed out against his lips as she pointedly rocked against his cock. “Is this what you want?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din chased after her lips, stealing one more kiss before settling back against the sofa. “I think I can do this.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She trailed her fingers up his throat, tracing her finger along the curve of his jaw. “Take me to bed, Din.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hold on.” He told her as he wrapped his arms around her waist and hauled himself off of the sofa. Omera wrapped her legs around him, her fingers digging into his shoulders. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din nudged open the bedroom door, trying to be as quiet as possible with Winta right across the hall. Omera reached over his shoulder to push it shut and he turned back to pull the latch closed to lock it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No interruptions.” Din said, winding his fingers through her hair. “You’re so beautiful, Omera.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera smiled up at him as he sat her down on the foot of the bed. “You tell me that all the time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because you </span>
  <em>
    <span>deserve</span>
  </em>
  <span> to hear it all the time.” Din drawled out, leaning down to cup her cheek and kiss her. “I should’ve told you the first time I was here.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shoved his chest playfully, “I don’t know what I would’ve thought. I couldn’t see </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>, even if I had this idea of what you would be like.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din ran his thumb over her bottom lip. He figured that whatever she imagined then, had to be better than the reality. Behind the armour he exuded an energy that wasn’t there without it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want to try something,” He told her, tilting her chin upwards as he dipped down to press a kiss to her lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera’s brows rose upwards, “What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I saw it once,” Din explained as he knelt down on the floor in front of her, resting his hands on her knees. “But I want to </span>
  <em>
    <span>try</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her lips parted in surprise, “Now I’m curious to know what else you’ve seen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t get </span>
  <em>
    <span>too</span>
  </em>
  <span> excited.” He chuckled, slowly drawing the fabric of her dress upwards. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera brushed his hands aside, standing up to unlace her dress and let it pool on the ground at her feet. Din felt his cock twitch as he looked up at her, still covered by the thin shift that hid </span>
  <em>
    <span>very </span>
  </em>
  <span>little. He could make out the stiff buds of her nipples straining against the thin fabric and his eyes traveled downwards to her bare thighs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know you don’t—“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want to.” Din cut her off, running his hands up her legs as she settled back on the edge of the bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera reached down and raked her fingers through his hair, “The fact that you want to is </span>
  <em>
    <span>impressive</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din pressed his lips to her knee, his hand wandering along the soft skin of her inner thigh. He groaned against her skin as his fingers found the slick heat of her sex. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She slid her legs open wider for him, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Din</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Omera watched him as he dragged his fingers through her folds, gathering up her slick arousal before bringing those fingers to his lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din held her gaze as his fingers returned to her cunt, “You’re so </span>
  <em>
    <span>wet</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Is this all because of me?” She nodded and he groaned. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck.</span>
  </em>
  <span> You feel so good, Omera.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just wait until…” Omera squirmed as he brushed his thumb over her clit. “I’m wrapped around your cock.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din turned his head to press a kiss to her thigh, trying to muffle the sound that rose up the back of his throat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He carefully parted her folds, dragging his fingers over her slick center, as his thumb brushed over that little bundle of nerves again. She was so responsive, hips rolling towards his touch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he didn’t want to just </span>
  <em>
    <span>touch </span>
  </em>
  <span>her, he wanted to taste her. He wanted to pull those sweet sounds from her under the teasing of his tongue. Din trailed his lips higher, his tongue darting out to trace the path he took to the apex of her thighs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera’s fingers gripped tightly at his hair as his mouth met her cunt. His methods were untrained, but she still seemed to enjoy the way his tongue swept between her folds, thrusting into her needy center. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din grabbed at her thighs, holding her steady as he lapped at her clit, focused on every response of her body to guide his ministrations. He was certain he could get drunk on the taste of her, lost in the sounds she made for him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But nothing prepared him for just how </span>
  <em>
    <span>deliriously </span>
  </em>
  <span>arousing it was to have her coming apart against his lips. She writhed against his mouth, coating his mouth and chin with her slick arousal as she careened over the edge. </span>
  <em>
    <span>For him</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din sat back on his heels, breathing raggedly as he looked up at her. He wondered if he looked half as mad as he felt — hair askew, pupils blown, and mouth glistening from the pleasure he’d brought her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera held up her hand to urge him to give her a moment as she came down from the high he’d given her. She pressed her thighs together as she pulled herself up off the bed. “You… are </span>
  <em>
    <span>good</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just followed your lead.” Din admitted, running his tongue over his lips as he held her gaze. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come here.” She beckoned him up, pulling him towards her. She wrapped her legs around his, dragging him downwards so she could kiss him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din pressed his knee against the bed between her thighs, crawling over her as they fell back onto the mattress together. They only broke apart to peel off her shift and remove his shirt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He kissed his way down her throat, pressing a row of kisses along her collarbones, before shifting lower, leaving open-mouthed kisses down the valley of her breasts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera’s nails scraped over his scalp as she thread her fingers through his hair. “Your mouth is a </span>
  <em>
    <span>menace</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” She told him as he wrapped his lips around her nipple and flicked his tongue over the peak. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din pulled away with a faint smirk, “Making up for lost time.” He lazily palmed at her other breast, not wanting to leave it untouched. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She laughed softly, rubbing her fingers over his scruffy jaw. “You’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>very </span>
  </em>
  <span>good at it.” She leaned up and pressed a kiss to his chin, her breath dancing against his skin before she kissed him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He let her draw him back down, planting his hands on the bed beside her head. Din groaned against her mouth as her hand slid between them to find his cock through his pants. His hips rocked forward, grinding into her touch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera worked to unfasten the closures of his pants, shoving the fabric down his hips. Din reached down to help her rid him of his pants, kicking them off the bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t get the chance to tell you the other day,” Omera started as she ran her hand down the center of his chest, over his stomach, and downwards to cup his heavy cock. “You look </span>
  <em>
    <span>good </span>
  </em>
  <span>when you come.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din groaned, gripping tightly at the blankets beneath her. “If you keep touching me like that, this is going to be over </span>
  <em>
    <span>far</span>
  </em>
  <span> too soon.” He warned her as she stroked him slowly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look at me.” Omera urged quietly and he obeyed, tilting his head to look down into her eyes. “I don’t care if you only last </span>
  <em>
    <span>three</span>
  </em>
  <span> seconds.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His cheeks burned hot with a blush, “I hope I last longer than </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She gracefully wrapped one leg around his hips, winding her arms around him as she drew him down towards her. “Just </span>
  <em>
    <span>enjoy </span>
  </em>
  <span>this.” Omera whispered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din groaned as she shifted against him, her slick folds dragging over the thick length of his cock, driving even further up the wall. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Din,” She kissed the corners of his lips. “Open your eyes.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Give me a second.” He breathed out raggedly, keeping one arm planted on the bed as his other traveled down her waist to grab at her hip. Din opened his eyes slowly, looking down into her warm gaze. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Hi</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi.” Omera grinned up at him, playing her fingers through the hair that fell across his forehead. “You’ve got this, Din.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her smile was infectious and his lips curled upwards with surprising ease as he leaned in to kiss her. He shifted between her thighs, reaching down to guide his cock to her center. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din rolled his hips forward, sinking the full length of his cock into her and still once he was seated within her. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He hissed out, pressing his face to the crook of her neck. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera ran her hand down his back, murmuring gentle words to him as she shifted beneath him, circling her hips in a tantalizing fashion. “That’s it.” She whispered, kissing a spot just beside his ear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You feel so good,” Din breathed out as he drew back just enough to rock into her. A strangled sound escaped him. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He slapped his hand against the blankets as he moved again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So do you,” Omera told him as she ran her hands down his back, grabbing onto his ass to encourage him to move. She hooked her leg over his, running her foot down the back of his calf, “You’ve got this, Din.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din let out a ragged breath, pressing his forehead to hers. He drew back, nearly slipping from her before he rocked forward, trying to set a pace that worked for both of them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vaguely, he considered if </span>
  <em>
    <span>this </span>
  </em>
  <span>was why Mandalorians were so violent, if they were depriving themselves of this pleasure. He could get lost in her, in that moment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even if it was over </span>
  <em>
    <span>far</span>
  </em>
  <span> too quickly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her name slipped past his lips, giving a second’s notice as pleasure tore through him and he came apart buried within her. Din tried to keep moving above her, grinding into her as he tried to bring her pleasure too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Sorry</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He mumbled, brushing his lips over the column of her throat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera played with the hair at the nape of his neck, “You made up for it on your knees.” She told him, tugging lightly at his hair as she tilted her head to look at him. “How do you feel?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din ran his hand up her side, brushing his thumb over the curve of her breast. “Like a changed man.” He drawled out with a crooked grin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She laughed, shifting beneath him when he let a little too much of his weight settle atop her. “Was it worth the wait?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded his head slowly, cupping her cheek and rubbing his thumb over the rise of her cheekbone. “I would do it all over again if I could find my way back to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She leaned up and kissed him, letting the kiss linger as she wrapped both of her legs around him. Din grabbed at her hip, guiding her movements as she writhed against him still. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera used that brief moment of weakness to roll them over, keeping herself seated in his lap, her cunt still wrapped around his softening cock. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din sank back against the bed, marveling at the naked woman sitting astride him. She was gorgeous and he devised a plan to find a dozen new languages to tell her that in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She swept her hair over her shoulders, planting her hands on his stomach for support as she rolled her hips, grinding down against him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera ran her hands up his stomach and chest, until she could brush her thumbs over her nipples. “Do you like that?” She questioned, catching the way he inhaled sharply and he was certain she could feel the way his cock twitched within her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din licked his lips as he nodded, too overwhelmed to find the words he wanted to use. Instead he grabbed at her hips, holding her steady as he rocked upwards, trying to bring her the stimulation she needed to find her own release. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera grabbed ahold of his hand, guiding him to the point where they were joined and he caught onto what she wanted. He stroked his thumb over her clit as she rocked against him, helping her tumble over the edge into that same blissful state that he was basking in. It stoked new heat within him, but he was too overwhelmed to focus on it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She leaned forward, her hair sliding over her shoulders and falling like curtains around their faces as she smiled down at him. “You did </span>
  <em>
    <span>very </span>
  </em>
  <span>good.” She told him, petting at his cheek as she kissed him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A lazy grin spread over his lips as he ran his hands up and down her back, “I’m going to say it again.” He felt lighter than he had in </span>
  <em>
    <span>years</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Ever, frankly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Say it.” She pressed her forehead to his. “Say it, Din.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you.” He whispered, tilting his head to kiss her before repeating it. “I love </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Omera.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you too.” Omera smiled against his lips. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Happy Christmas, Din lost his V card!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>*laughs at myself for thinking I could write a two-shot smut fic and move on* Hello, we have plot now and I have no idea how long this will be. I promise there will still be some sex too! Probably a lot still.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>An entire harvest had come and gone and </span>
  <em>
    <span>still</span>
  </em>
  <span> the good people of Sorgan greeted Din with stony glares and whispers of distrust. What little trust existed waned to nothing when </span>
  <em>
    <span>new </span>
  </em>
  <span>strangers arrived. Beyond the migrant workers, the occasional traveling vendor, and travelers making their way from one point to the next — little happened in the village. Of course the Slave I streaking across the sky drew attention. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were murmurs, rumors that Din had dubious reasons to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>in </span>
  </em>
  <span>Sorgan. He was intimately aware of the fact that Lenair had convinced most of the village that he was, despite insistent clarification, Winta’s father. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That rumor got under his skin, because Din knew that Omera had told them that Winta’s father hadn’t been a </span>
  <em>
    <span>good </span>
  </em>
  <span>man. He’d worked thanklessly through the harvest, picked up the slack when some of the migrant workers had gotten ill, and asked for nothing in return. Yet they couldn’t even extend him the common courtesy to trust that he had no nefarious reasons to be there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Boba Fett and Fennec Shand’s arrival didn’t help stave off the rumors. Even dressed down, the ominous pair looked like harbingers of malevolence. Boba’s scars were not the scars of an innocent man and Fennec had that hardened look of a trained assassin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You look good,” Boba remarked as he brought the cup of mead to his lips, arching a brow at Din before taking a swig of the sweet liquid. He turned towards Fennec, “Doesn’t he?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din ran his fingers through his hair, resting an elbow against the table. He hadn’t put much thought into his appearance. His hair had grown out, longer than when he’d last seen Boba and Fennec. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fennec nodded in agreement, “I think I even saw him </span>
  <em>
    <span>smile</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” She took a sip of her own mead, leaning back in her seat. “You’re not coming back with us are you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He drummed his fingers against the table, “No. Not yet at least.” He stared down into his cup. “I’m exploring a few things here right now.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Boba chuckled, nodding his head towards the front door where Omera had stepped outside a few short minutes ago. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Exploring</span>
  </em>
  <span> our pretty host?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is it that obvious?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fennec cocked her head to the side, “Did you think it </span>
  <em>
    <span>wasn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din exhaled slowly, rubbing at his forehead. “I don’t know. I sometimes forget that this,” He gestured to his face. “Isn't hidden anymore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If it makes you feel any better,” Boba explained, “Her face was the giveaway. I recognize that </span>
  <em>
    <span>longing</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fennec turned towards Boba then, “And who’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>longing</span>
  </em>
  <span> are you familiar with?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Boba smirked behind his cup, shaking his head slowly. “Long before you, Fen.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din’s brows rose upwards in surprise as he watched Boba run his hand over Fennec’s shoulder in a rather intimate way. He recognized those little interactions now. He understood them firsthand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Better be.” Fennec warned him with a smirk of her own, before fixing Din with a look. “And how’s that </span>
  <em>
    <span>exploration</span>
  </em>
  <span> going?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din’s face felt hot and he hid his embarrassment as he took a sip of his mead. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fine</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How seriously did you take the creed?” Boba questioned as he leaned heavily against the table. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Very</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He answered dryly, casting his gaze towards the crackling fire that was keeping the house warm. Though, with how hot his cheeks were, he felt confident that he could keep it warm too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Boba hummed approvingly, “Ah, </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> is why you’ve learned how to smile.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din rolled his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did notice a slight skip in his step.” Fennec taunted lightly, nodding her head towards the front door. “She’s a pretty woman.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>wonderful.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Din agreed, sitting his cup down. “Omera is </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything</span>
  </em>
  <span> I didn’t realise I was missing out on.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m happy for you, kid.” Boba said with a nod of his head, reaching for the bottle of mead to refill his cup. “Hold onto that good for as long as you can.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Enjoy it while it lasts,” Fennec folded her arms atop the table, “We come bearing </span>
  <em>
    <span>bad</span>
  </em>
  <span> news.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din felt his stomach turn, “What?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Boba worked his jaw slowly before he spoke, “Fennec and I have been </span>
  <em>
    <span>enjoying </span>
  </em>
  <span>an extended stay on Tatooine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Making right the wrongs we’ve seen.” She added, refilling her own cup of mead. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din looked between the two of them, “What is it?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gideon escaped.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stared at Boba, “What?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Boba arched a brow, “The prison transport carrying Gideon was hijacked and he escaped.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din felt the color drain from his face, “Where… Do you know where he went?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fennec looked to Boba then, “Bo-Katan dropped by a week ago. It would seem that Gideon has his eyes set on a key member of leadership in the New Republic.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who’s that?” Din frowned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Senator Organa.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why does that concern me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Boba tapped his thumb against the side of his cup, “Senator Organa is Luke Skywalker’s sister.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dread settled heavily on his shoulders, “Do you think he’s trying to get to Grogu?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bo-Katan didn’t know.” Fennec answered flatly. “But there was an attack on the Solo residence which was traced back to Gideon.” She gave Boba a look when he shifted in his seat. “Suck it up.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did I say </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Boba gritted out, giving her a side-eye.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was implied.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din cleared his throat, “What does this mean? Do we think Gideon is after Grogu? Is this a separate vendetta?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Boba sighed, “Bo-Katan seemed insistent that you return with us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because she won’t take the </span>
  <em>
    <span>kriffing </span>
  </em>
  <span>darksaber without besting me.” Din snapped, pinching at the bridge of his nose. “I told Omera that I wouldn’t leave.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was what he got for breaking the creed. Time and time again he felt like he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>punished </span>
  </em>
  <span>for taking off his helmet, for walking away from the vows he made. First he lost Grogu and now…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera swept back through the front door, entirely unaware of the storm brewing inside. “Will you be staying for dinner?” She asked Boba and Fennec. “We have leftover roast from last night I thought would make for a nice hearty sandwich.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Boba looked to Din for the answer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’ll be staying.” Din answered distantly, staring at the fire as it danced from the breeze that followed Omera in front outside. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fennec finished off her second cup of mead, kicking back in her seat. “This should be fun.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din glared at her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera would understand — wouldn’t she? She was a mother, if Winta was in danger she’d do the same. If there was even a chance that Gideon was targeting </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span> son…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His heart sank. With his luck, Omera would decide to cut her losses and move on. He wouldn’t blame her for that decision. It would probably be easier for her than waiting by for him to return. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din didn’t want her to feel like some haven that he returned to when it was convenient. She deserved better than that. He wanted Sorgan to be his home. He wanted </span>
  <em>
    <span>her </span>
  </em>
  <span>to be his home. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera gave his shoulder a squeeze, “Did you hear me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He blinked, looking up at her, “No, sorry.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you mind fetching a new bottle of mead from the cellar?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din nodded, “Yeah. Of course.” He could use a few moments alone to process. To figure out what the path forward would be for him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Did he stay and run the risk of inadvertently causing harm to Grogu? Or did he leave and go back on the promises that he made to Omera? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could draw a straight line through every unfortunate turn in his life and it all placed him back on Morak. It had felt like the </span>
  <em>
    <span>right </span>
  </em>
  <span>thing to do. It had been the only way to get to Grogu, but now… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t fair that other Mandalorians thrived without their helmets. Boba apparently had Fennec, Bo-Katan and the Nite Owls seemed to do fine without their helmets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe he was just </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucked</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He carried the burden of his choices and the cosmic order sought to smite him for them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The cellar door creaked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din’s head jerked towards the door to see Omera standing there. “Sorry, I got distracted… I was thinking about—“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your friends said that we should talk </span>
  <em>
    <span>before</span>
  </em>
  <span> dinner or you weren’t going to eat.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He laughed bitterly, “As lovely as your roast is, they’re right about my appetite.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She folded her arms across her chest and it felt like a defensive gesture. “Din, if you’ve changed your mind… just tell me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>haven’t</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” He said quickly, keeping the distance between them. “But…” Din hung his head. “I may have to leave.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see.” Omera moved past him to fetch the mead for herself. “And will you be back?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I haven’t decided if I’m leaving yet.” Din admitted quietly, frowning as Omera kept herself turned away from him. “I had no intention of even </span>
  <em>
    <span>humoring </span>
  </em>
  <span>leaving Sorgan until they…” His hands went to his hips. “Grogu </span>
  <em>
    <span>may</span>
  </em>
  <span> be in danger.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera spun around then, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>What</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We don’t know enough for me to say for certain,” He swallowed thickly. “It sounds like a convoluted plot.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Din, if that’s why you have to leave then that isn’t an issue.” Omera reached out and curled her fingers around his forearm. “Hey, look at me.” She waited until he did. “How soon are we talking?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I haven’t talked it through with them,” Din nodded towards the ceiling, where Boba and Fennec sat in the house above them. “I’m still processing all of this.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If they can wait a few days, Winta’s nearly finished with her schooling for the season.” Omera ran her hand down his arm, squeezing his hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It could be dangerous.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera narrowed her eyes, “You and I both know that </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” She gestured to herself. “Is a part I’ve played for Winta’s sake.” She stepped towards him. “You know what I’m capable of.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din blinked slowly, his brain catching up with what she was telling him. “Then you’ll come with me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nodded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>An incredulous laugh escaped him as he cupped her cheek and kissed her, it was an awkward kiss, with a little too much teeth and their noses shoved together. But Omera met him halfway regardless, clinging to the fabric of his shirt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din drew back, “I thought I was going to lose you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’ll take more than that,” Omera ruffled her fingers through his hair, “Your son might be in danger. I would be disappointed if you </span>
  <em>
    <span>didn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>go after him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just feel like every time I take a step forward, further away from the creed, something goes wrong.” Din’s shoulders sank. “I guess I jumped ahead of myself.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A little.” She brushed her knuckles over his cheek, “Let’s go back upstairs.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din engaged Boba and Fennec in idle conversation while Omera finished preparing the roast for dinner. He was intrigued by the stories of what they had gotten up on Tatooine. Taking over Jabba’s former palace, taking down syndicate after syndicate, and finding a way to liberate the people kept underfoot by the crime lords that ran amok on the planet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hadn’t taken either of them as people who </span>
  <em>
    <span>cared </span>
  </em>
  <span>about the underprivileged, but lately everyone seemed to surprise him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look, sweetheart, this is </span>
  <em>
    <span>dangerous </span>
  </em>
  <span>business. You might do well to stay put.” Boba said out of genuine concern, but Omera took offense to it and Din couldn’t exactly blame her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera sat up a little straighter, sitting down her cup of mead with purpose. “I’ve killed a man with my bare hands.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fennec nearly choked on her drink. She snapped her fingers and pointed between Din and Omera, “She’s a keeper.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I know.” Din said with a smirk, resting his hand on Omera’s leg beneath the table, giving her a reassuring squeeze. “Omera and Winta are non-negotiable.” Din said firmly, giving Boba a pointed look. “The Slave has plenty of room.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not running a daycare.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m capable of watching my own daughter.” Omera gave him a pointed look. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t let him fool you,” Fennec said as she leaned against the table. “I thought he was going to take off with this one mother’s baby.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Boba glared, “It’s not my fault she took a shining to me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She laughed, “I can’t imagine why.” Fennec lowered her voice, as if Boba wasn’t sitting directly beside her. “He took her on a little flight with his jet pack.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That seemed to relax Omera just enough to make Din relax as well. “I have some credits saved from my work this harvest. It’s not much, but I’ll get us a ship so we can get out of your hair.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not tracking down Gideon in a fifty credit ship.” Boba snorted, shaking his head. “If the kid isn’t safe, my promise to you is still on the table.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fennec nodded in agreement, “You have us at your disposal.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din sighed heavily, “Thank you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Boba rolled a shoulder, “No thanks are necessary.” He scratched at his jaw. “If we’re being honest… I never did trust the Jedi.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din leaned forward, “Why?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They killed my father.” He answered through clenched teeth. “I had dealings with them as a boy. I don’t know much about this Skywalker, but…” Boba clicked his tongue against his teeth. “I’d say your boy has had enough training.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why didn’t you tell me </span>
  <em>
    <span>before</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Boba shrugged, “I try not to burden others with my personal grievances. The issue I take with the Jedi is not </span>
  <em>
    <span>yours</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fennec nodded in agreement with him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din pinched at the bridge of his nose, trying to stave off the impending headache he felt drilling through his brain. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t as though he could return to Sorgan with him. If Gideon </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>tracking him across the galaxy, he wouldn’t put the village at risk. Din’s eyes slid over towards Omera, studying her profile as she looked between Boba and Fennec as they bantered about some recent encounter on Tatooine. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was confident she could hold her own, but he still didn’t want to put her at risk. Like Boba said, his grievances weren’t hers to carry the burden of. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he’d let her shoulder some of the weight, if she was willing to. If Sorgan had taught him anything, he hadn’t always worked better alone — he’d just never given himself the opportunity to explore otherwise. But this moment underlined the reason why bounty hunters chose to work alone. Why they actively avoided attachments because it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>so </span>
  </em>
  <span>easy to be blinded by those emotions and lose what mattered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Din looked at Omera, all he could envision was waking up beside her. Mornings bathed in golden light, tangled up in the sheets as he memorized every curve of her body. He wanted to get lost in her kisses and forget about everything else. Those desires clouded his judgement. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d tried to run from himself, to keep one step ahead of who he really was. Not just now, but he’d done that his whole life. It was easy to keep busy, to let his role in life consume him. Sorgan had been a nice distraction, a facsimile of the life he </span>
  <em>
    <span>could’ve </span>
  </em>
  <span>had. But that wasn’t meant for him. Reality had caught up with him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What worked for others, didn’t feel truly attainable for him. Guilt cut through any joy he truly felt. Guilt because he’d turned his back on the way. The Mandalorians of his covert had rescued him as a boy, saved him from certain death. Then they sacrificed themselves to ensure that he and Grogu survived. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What had he done in return? He’d turned his back on them. That shame gnawed at him. Raw guilt that ate through him now that he let it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din stared across the table at Boba, “Do you have my armour?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s right where you left it.” Boba arched a brow at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t undo the shame that he’d brought to his armour, but he could try to forge forward. To make amends for the parts of himself that he’d betrayed in his pursuit to live like others did. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>*jazz hands* Smut and introspection.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The armour felt heavier than Din remembered. The thigh guards bit into his skin when he sat and he’d forgotten how restrictive the shoulder pauldrons were. And then there was the breastplate — if he didn’t sit </span>
  <em>
    <span>just </span>
  </em>
  <span>right, it pressed inwards painfully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t remember feeling this uncomfortable in the armour. But he’d never known anything but it. Day in and day out… he’d lived in it. He had even slept in it. Always ready to fight. Never truly at ease. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept all the way through the night since before Sorgan. Even when he was alone on the Razor Crest he’d slept in his armour. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There </span>
  <em>
    <span>were</span>
  </em>
  <span> brief periods of time when he’d shed his layers to use the fresher or tend to injuries. But divesting himself of that armour had felt like a ceremony. When he’d taken it off for the last time… it hadn’t felt ceremonial. It felt like a betrayal. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din raked his fingers through his hair as he exhaled through his nose, staring into the viewfinder of his helmet. This was what people had seen for years. An emotionless face peering back. Devoid of all of the things that he had now learned that he was capable of. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Am I allowed to come in?” Omera called out through the durasteel door that separated them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Was she? She’d already seen him without his helmet on. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Kriff</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he’d been between her thighs a handful of days ago and he was worrying about the creed still. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” Din’s voice wavered and his fingers curled into fists as he heard the door open behind him. His fingers itched to reach for the helmet, to hide himself and pretend like nothing had happened. As if </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>would help repair the damage that had been done. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Boba is currently teaching Winta about how to pilot the Slave.” Omera informed him, her voice coming out a little more stilted than usual. “I’m shocked that he’s as good with kids as he is.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s good.” Din offered, swallowing thickly around the knot in his throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” Omera whispered, reaching out to rest her hand against his shoulder pauldron, her fingers brushing against the fabric in an attempt to soothe him. It worked too, he felt some of the tension in his spine ease up. “I’m not going to be upset if you decide to wear the helmet again. If that’s what you’re worried about.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am worried about that,” Din admitted with a humorless laugh. “I’m afraid that if I put it back on then…” He shook his head. “All of this changes.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll still love you.” Her fingers traveled upwards to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Even if you wear the helmet again.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din started to reach for the helmet, but he stopped short, turning towards Omera instead. “I can’t shake what I was raised to know. It drains the color from every moment we share.” He lifted his hands and rubbed at his temples frustratedly, “They’re intrusive.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She cupped his cheek and he leaned into her touch, desperate for that contact still. “What do you want?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want my kid back and I want…” Din hesitated. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>You</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does the helmet change that?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If I don’t take it off.” He answered quietly, “I won’t be able to do so many of the things I’ve grown fond of.” He took ahold of her hand and kissed the center of her palm. “I thought I could walk away from this life. I thought I had lived long enough to choose myself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera rested her hand against his shoulder as she leaned down to press her lips to his forehead. “You are choosing yourself, Din. This is your choice. What </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>want.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wanted that life on Sorgan… You, Winta, Grogu. The four of us.” He admitted. “But I knew I didn’t belong. Even without my armour… I didn’t feel like I belonged there.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They don’t like </span>
  <em>
    <span>anyone</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Omera assured him. “Don’t let their bad behavior be the reason you go back on all of the progress you’ve made.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din lowered his gaze, “I always felt like I belonged with the covert. I never felt out of place or unwanted. They sacrificed so much for </span>
  <em>
    <span>me </span>
  </em>
  <span>and I turned on that generosity.” Din was still trying to reckon with those thoughts — the fears. Being alone meant he was his own burden. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you need right now?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He blinked at her for a long moment, “Can we sit?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” Omera brushed her knuckles against his cheek, before stepping aside for him. The bed wasn’t much, but at least they had plenty of room on the Slave for all of them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grumbled to himself about how uncomfortable it was to relax in his armour. How quickly he’d forgotten what it felt like to </span>
  <em>
    <span>be </span>
  </em>
  <span>a Mandalorian. A constant source of pain, annoyance, and frustration. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera settled down beside him on the bed, sitting close enough that her thigh was pressed against his. “What’s going through your mind right now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din huffed a little, “How uncomfortable I am right now.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She frowned and started to shift away from him, but he grabbed her leg and kept her right where she was. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want to make this more difficult for you.” Omera said gently, reaching down to run her fingers over the back of his glove clad hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shook his head slowly, “You’re not. Please don’t think that.” Din’s brows knit together as his gaze shifted to find her eyes. There was a hurt there that she was clearly trying to keep at bay, one that made him ache to his core.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I knew what I was getting into,” Omera told him gently. “I knew that there was trauma that you were working through.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din pulled his hand away from her, tearing both of his gloves off and tossing them aside. “This doesn’t change </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Omera.” He told her as he cupped her cheek, brushing her hair behind ear as he stroked his fingers over her skin, “I still love you, same as I did yesterday and the day before.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera’s eyes fell closed as she leaned into his touch and Din dipped in to press his lips to hers. It was meant to be a gentle reassuring kiss, but it sparked to life like a fire. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He drew her in and she followed, moving to straddle his thigh so she could kiss him more easily. Omera’s fingers curled around the back of his neck, holding to him as their lips met. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din ran his hands down her spine, grabbing at her hips as he pulled her towards him. He couldn’t feel her the way he’d grown used to feeling her — her chest was pressed to his breastplate, she was perched on the unfeeling beskar of his thigh guard. He could feel her, but it was all muted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera’s hand wandered down his arm and he couldn’t even feel the heat of her touch through the heavy fabric. She drew back from the kiss, pressing her forehead against his, “We don’t have to do this, Din.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want to.” Din gave her hip a squeeze, tilting his head to brush his nose against hers. “This armour has robbed me of so much, it’s not taking this from me too.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She cupped his jaw, brushing her fingers over the bristles there. “I won’t lie. I’ve had a very </span>
  <em>
    <span>distinct</span>
  </em>
  <span> fantasy about this.” Omera tapped her fingers against his shoulder pauldron. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din’s brows rose upwards, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>What</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera laughed softly, “After you left.” She shifted on his lap and he groaned as her knee pressed against his cock. “I didn’t know what was beneath the helmet and all I had to envision was that.” She glanced back at the helmet sitting on the table. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His tongue darted out over his lips, “What did you envision?” Din questioned, letting his hand wander up her waist. There was a part of him that was satisfied with the knowledge that the helmet could be </span>
  <em>
    <span>desired</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Something like this,” She admitted, rolling her hips slowly as she grinded herself against the unyielding beskar that covered his thigh. “You wouldn’t let me touch your bare skin.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sounds like that would pose a challenge.” Din said in a low voice, exhaling through his nose as he watched her run her hand down his breastplate and over the heavy fabric that covered his stomach. He hated not being able to feel her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We </span>
  <em>
    <span>always</span>
  </em>
  <span> found a workaround in my fantasies.” She smirked as her hand slid down and she cupped him through his pants. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A low groan slipped past Din’s lips, his hips shifting towards her touch as she slowly stroked him. It was such a muted sensation, far removed what he’d grown used to in his </span>
  <em>
    <span>normal</span>
  </em>
  <span> trousers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera leaned in and pressed kisses to the corners of his lips, “Are you sure this is what you want?” She questioned, her breath dancing over his lips. “We can wait until you’re out of the armour.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shook his head, lifting his gaze to meet hers. “I want this.” He brushed her hair behind her ear, “I want </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din knew he couldn’t slip back into the armour and revert back to who he had been. He wasn’t an emotionless man trying to make his way through the galaxy without attachments. His heart bled nightly for Grogu and he’d tear himself apart if he walked away from Omera. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Home had always been such an abstract concept, but then home felt like Sorgan. Home felt like her kisses. Home was this tangible thing he could touch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he knew there was an end to her patience. He’d seen it in her eyes when she thought he was leaving. He’d seen it in her eyes mere moments ago. He was damaged, but she was damaged too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din caught her wrist, his brows drawn together with concern. “Do </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>want this?” He questioned, rubbing his thumb over the point where her wrist dipped into her palm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Very much.” Omera assured him, pulling her hand out of his grasp as she draped her arms over his shoulders. “We’ve got this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He met her halfway as she leaned in to kiss him, his fingers working to peel off the soft tunic she wore. She’d forgone the dress he was accustomed to, donning a pair of leggings with her boots and the tunic cinched around her waist. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the comfort of the Slave, she didn’t have to put up this homespun, motherly facade she presented in Sorgan. She could be the woman that he saw glimpses of behind closed doors. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din quickly found that there was something </span>
  <em>
    <span>erotic </span>
  </em>
  <span>about the way she stripped off her clothes until she was bare, while he sat covered from neck to toe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Shh</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Omera reminded him as she cupped the length of his clock through his trousers, causing him to moan as she stroked him teasingly through the fabric. “You have to be quiet.”!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then you better get creative.” He retorted as he sank back on the bed, propping himself up on his elbows as he watched her move to straddle his thighs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shot him a look that made his blood burn hot. “Don’t give me ideas.” Omera retorted as she worked the closure of his pants open, reaching inside to free his cock. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din grabbed uselessly at the covers beneath him, his head tilted back as he savored the sensation of </span>
  <em>
    <span>freedom</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It was one thing to pretend that he was just a man on Sorgan, to give into the liberation of being just Din, to explore his desires… but it was another thing entirely to sit in his armour with the woman he loved sitting on his lap with her fingers curled around his cock. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He kept his eyes on her face as he ran his hands up her sides until he reached her breasts. “Can’t get over how beautiful you are.” Din murmured as he cupped each of them, palming them gently as she stroked her hand up and down the length of his cock. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Always with the praise.” She teased lightly as she curled her fingers around him to hold him steady as she maneuvered further into his lap so she could sink down onto him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din groaned, a little louder than intended and Omera took him by surprise with just how quickly her hand clamped down over his mouth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Din</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” She scolded him gently, keeping her hand in place as she rolled her hips. “The durasteel isn’t that thick.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her palm muffled his laughter as he grabbed at her hips, rocking upwards as she ground down against him. She looked </span>
  <em>
    <span>good </span>
  </em>
  <span>sitting on top of him. It was nice to be out of control of just a handful of moments — especially after leading a life where he’d held tight to that control. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din knew he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t go back to wearing the helmet, he couldn’t hide away from the world again. He had a life now. One that he could only lead without the creed breathing down his back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His fingers tightened their hold on her hips as he sat up, keeping her seated right where she was. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Omera</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He whispered as he leaned in, breath mingling with hers before he kissed her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The helmet felt like it was staring him down from across the room. Disappointment looming just at the edge of his vision. He’d given up decades of vows for this. For a chance at what everyone else seemed to have so easy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din released his hold on her hips as he removed his vambraces, tossing them onto the bed beside them. “I don’t need them.” He told her as an explanation, far more concerned with having full mobility in his wrists as his hands wandered over her bare skin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was all over far too quickly, but not </span>
  <em>
    <span>nearly</span>
  </em>
  <span> as quickly as that first night had been. She followed him over the peak mere moments after, sinking against him and resting her cheek against the cool beskar at his shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How are you?” She whispered as she lazily dragged her fingers up his throat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He kissed the top of her head. “Content right now.” Din admitted as he ran his hand down the length of her back. “I’m not putting it back on.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It would be alright if you did.” She leaned up to kiss his jaw. “But I’m glad you’re not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din squeezed her a little tighter, “Me too.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His gaze drifted towards his helmet briefly and he willed himself to look away. It seemed so easy for others to turn their back on that life — but maybe it was because the others had been born into it. There was no </span>
  <em>
    <span>before</span>
  </em>
  <span> that had been stripped away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bo-Katan and Boba had only ever known </span>
  <em>
    <span>their</span>
  </em>
  <span> way. A way that allowed them to exist as something beyond just their armour. But he’d been stripped of that freedom as a boy. A </span>
  <em>
    <span>scared</span>
  </em>
  <span> boy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After what he’d gone through, he’d held onto the creed like it could fill the void of loss. But he hadn’t had friends, siblings, or parents to lean on. He’d just had his armour, which made for a poor substitute for those things.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But that was something he didn’t have the brainpower to contemplate at that </span>
  <em>
    <span>precise</span>
  </em>
  <span> moment. He was keenly aware that it wasn’t easy to think with a beautiful woman in his arms. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you say Boba’s teaching Winta how to pilot?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera laughed, “Yes!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s shockingly good with her.” Omera said as she shifted against to find a more comfortable position. “Fennec… not as good with kids.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Has he warmed up to you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shrugged, “I don’t need anyone to warm up to me. But I think I’ve won him over.” Omera pulled back a little to look at him then. “They both seem… interesting.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din chuckled, “That's an understatement.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And he’s a Mandalorian too?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“His father was a foundling like me,” He explained. “A clone apparently.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera cocked her head to the side, “That’s where I recognized the face.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I never encountered any clones.” Din admitted, “Or if I did, I didn’t know. There’s a lot I don’t know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re learning.” Omera brushed her fingers through his hair. “That’s what matters.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din squeezed her hip, “I’m trying.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'm really curious to hear thoughts on the psychoanalysis of Din. I'm having so much fun crawling inside of his head.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Shorter chapter, but not short on introspection.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“I see you keep the same hours as me.” Boba remarked as he climbed down from the cockpit and found Din sitting at the heart of the Slave. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A hollow chuckle escaped Din as he looked towards him, “I never did sleep well when we were in hyperspace.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Boba removed his helmet, sitting it aside as he fixed Din with a look, “Thought you’d be taking advantage of a narrow bunk.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Winta is with her mother.” Din shrugged a shoulder, leaning back against the jump seat. “The last time she was in space, she was nothing more than a baby.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’ll get used to it,” Boba said as he took a seat in the jump seat beside Din. “They seem like good people.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They are.” He agreed, picking a bit of lint off his leg. “Omera is patient and kind, and… </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> determined.” Din glanced at Boba. “She’s helped me a lot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I noticed that you’re out of your armour again.” Boba’s brows rose upwards. “Your covert was strict, wasn’t it?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s an understatement,” He rocked his jaw slowly. “I didn’t realize they were. I never met </span>
  <em>
    <span>other </span>
  </em>
  <span>Mandalorians until…” Din gestured vaguely. “We were told stories about the fall of the Mandalorians. The Empire’s hand in it all. But it was never the full picture.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din understood now that it was always just enough to keep them under the thrall of the creed. Other Mandalorian broke the creed and now they were no more. But they </span>
  <em>
    <span>were</span>
  </em>
  <span>. They thrived without the oppressive creed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Boba turned towards him, “Do you love her?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do.” There was no hesitation to his answer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And not just because she was there for you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din frowned. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>No</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It’s not like that.” He shifted uncomfortably in the seat, “I met her before. Early on in my time with Grogu. There was a spark then. One I was quick to put out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Boba hummed and the uncertain tone of it made Din all the more uncomfortable. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Even before I turned my back on my creed, it always came back to Omera. I never wanted to be alone, but I didn’t think I had an option where I wouldn’t be.” Din looked towards Boba then. “I look at her and I can picture a </span>
  <em>
    <span>home</span>
  </em>
  <span>. A real one. Four walls, a door.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I get it.” Boba rolled his shoulders. “Never thought I’d meet my match, but then one day there she was laying along the sands of Tatooine.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought she was dead.” Din admitted. “I saw her and… I didn’t stop.” It was easier to talk about </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span>, rather than how he felt for Omera. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She nearly was.” Boba slowly removed his vambraces. “That welp who called himself a bounty hunter did a pisspoor job of finishing the job. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Thankfully</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s dead.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Boba huffed, “Good.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did you learn to program cybernetics.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I grew up on Kamino.” Boba explained. “I learned advanced medical skills from a young age.” His lips drew upwards at the corners. “Fen and I knew each other before. Our paths crossed but they weren’t ready to run parallel.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s why I went back to Sorgan. I knew I’d be welcomed there with open arms.” Din explained hesitantly. “I didn’t expect for it to become what it is. I didn’t know I was capable.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>The way</span>
  </em>
  <span> fucked with your head, didn’t it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded slowly, “Every time I fall asleep, I dream of the covert. I let them down in every dream.” He laughed bitterly. “I can’t even sleep without them infiltrating my thoughts.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You never bent the rules before?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Omera was the—“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I get it.” Boba held up a hand with a chuckle. “I’ll spare you embarrassment on that front.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din sank back in the jump seat, stretching his legs out in front of him. “I know what you’re angling at,” He gave the other man a look. “I jumped into this </span>
  <em>
    <span>thing </span>
  </em>
  <span>with Omera while I’m still trying to figure life out.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Boba nodded in agreement, “I don’t want to see either of you hurt.” He lowered his voice. “She uprooted her life for you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He dragged his hands over his face, “I know she did. But Sorgan was no life for her either.” Din admitted. “She’s meant for more than baking bread and working the harvest.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Empire?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din pressed his lips together. “It’s not my story to tell.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did their bidding too.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So did I.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Boba stared at him for a long moment before he spoke. “We’ll get your kid back.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know it was the right decision, but…” Din shook his head slowly. “He’s special and I couldn’t — I </span>
  <em>
    <span>can’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> — give him what he needs to thrive.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All a kid </span>
  <em>
    <span>needs</span>
  </em>
  <span> to thrive is love and safety.” Boba reached over and gave Din’s shoulder a squeeze. “And I think you’ve got those covered.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure he’s safe with the Jedi,” Din didn’t know that, but he had convinced himself that he needed to believe it. “But if Gideon is still trying to get to him, I want to be there. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>should </span>
  </em>
  <span>be there.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The ladder to the lower deck creaked as Fennec climbed up to join them at the center of the ship. “I was </span>
  <em>
    <span>wondering </span>
  </em>
  <span>why you hadn’t joined me yet.” She gave Boba a pointed look, before her gaze slid towards Din. “Is it a Mandalorian trait not to </span>
  <em>
    <span>sleep</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Din laughed humorlessly as he rubbed his hands together, looking between the two of them. “I’ve flown a Firespray before. You should go catch some sleep.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You need sleep too.” Boba arched a brow at him. “But I’ll take you up on that offer, before Fen pushes me out the airlock.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” She feigned offense, before holding her hand out to Boba. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din was used to sitting alone in a cockpit. He’d spent </span>
  <em>
    <span>years </span>
  </em>
  <span>alone on the Razor Crest before Grogu came into his life. And then he got used to the little tike cooing in the passenger seat. In the short time he’d had him in his life, Grogu had </span>
  <em>
    <span>finally </span>
  </em>
  <span>started being more communicative with him. Din enjoyed the way he’d enthusiastically coo when they’d pick-up speed or the way he’d throw his hands up in the air when they rolled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sat uncomfortably in the pilot’s seat, staring out into the inky darkness of space. Sorgan and Lothal were </span>
  <em>
    <span>both </span>
  </em>
  <span>in the Outer Rim, but nowhere near each other. He almost wished it had been somewhere close… at least then he wouldn’t be left to his own thoughts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just last night he’d laid awake and realized that he couldn’t remember what his mother looked like or what his father’s name was. They were both like shadowy specters at the periphery of his memory. His mother’s name he remembered — his own namesake had come from her, even if he rarely heard the name spoken to him over the years. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The covert had been strict about names. Names gave someone power over you and power over </span>
  <em>
    <span>one </span>
  </em>
  <span>Mandalorian meant power over all Mandalorians. He’d heard it uttered a handful of times growing up and each time it had been to scold him for something he’d done wrong. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Gael</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Din breathed out as he reflected back on his childhood, the sweet lilt of his mother’s voice as she called out to his father. In those short years that he had with him, they hadn’t had much. They’d moved twice that he could recall, though he thought they may have moved three times in total. His father mined briefly, before taking up an apprenticeship with a craftsman. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were supposed to have a better life then. Steady employment meant they wouldn’t have to rely on temporary housing. They could put down roots and have a real life. How could they have anticipated that Aq Vetina would be attacked mere weeks after settling there? How could they have known that their son would grow up to barely recognize his own reflection? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The choices they had made in life had been for </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He recalled hushed conversations after he was tucked in for the night. His mother worrying about mounting dangers at the mines, his father assuring her that they just needed a little more before he could buy into the apprenticeship. He’d never seen them so happy until his father had returned with the news about the apprenticeship on Aq Vetina. A fresh start. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now, as an adult, he understood the choices parents made for their children. They were no longer abstract concepts he pretended to comprehend. He’d made difficult choices for Grogu. He’d placed the child’s wellbeing before his own. He saw the spark that Omera stifled to give light to her daughter’s future. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din understood that now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A part of him had resented his parents. They were out of reach figures that he could pin blame to without reason. If they hadn’t moved, if they hadn’t died, if they hadn’t left him all </span>
  <em>
    <span>alone</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Things would’ve been different. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he’d been taught that their deaths meant his salvation. In the hands of the Mandalorians he would find purpose, meaning, and belonging. And he had. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grew up to be good at tracking bounties. He filled the coffers of the covert. He kept to himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Purpose, meaning, belonging. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was no true sense of self. A victory for one was a victory for all. Success came to the covert and no one man for himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> an individual. He’d had personal successes. Success that had nothing to do with the covert or what he’d been taught there. He had wants and desires and aspirations beyond living and dying alone in the cockpit of the Razo—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din stopped his thoughts there. The Razor Crest was gone. The last remnants of his life before no longer existed. He had his armour, a beskar spear, a little silver ball, and more emotional baggage than he had time to unpack. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He rubbed at his eyes, before dragging his fingers through his hair as he sank back a little more comfortably in the seat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Boba had a point about Omera, she was the first person he’d latched into for support and that wasn’t fair to her. As patient and understanding as she was, he didn’t want to take advantage of that kindness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din had enough self-awareness to know that what he was going through mentally could easily scare a person off. It was enough to scare </span>
  <em>
    <span>himself </span>
  </em>
  <span>off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But that didn’t change how he felt about her. He remembered — like it was yesterday — the way she’d asked him if he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>happy</span>
  </em>
  <span> in Sorgan. That they wanted him to stay there, with his son, and make a life for themselves there. The way she’d look through his visor, as if she could see him for who he was. Scared, alone, and wanting </span>
  <em>
    <span>more</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he hadn’t been able to envision that for himself. Peace seemed like a foreign concept. He hadn’t envisioned slowing down until he was dead. But where could they find home now? Sorgan wasn’t an option anymore. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din wondered briefly if the rumors about Mandalore were true. For years he’d heard whispers — it existed, but was in ruins; it was gone like Alderaan; it was intentionally torn apart by Mandalorians. Could it be rebuilt as a safe haven for people like him? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There had to be more. Grappling with the duality of breaking away from an upbringing that stifled them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hadn’t Bo-Katan said that Mandalorians were stronger together? </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Happy New Year, dear readers! Enjoy a little soft angst.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“This stew smells funny.” Winta complained as she sniffed at a spoonful of the joppa stew, her nose wrinkling as she sat it back down in the bowl. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Manners</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Omera said in a low voice, giving her daughter a warning look. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> wrong.” Koska remarked as she leaned on the table. “It smells like massif shit, but it goes down easy.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Winta giggled, “I’m not allowed to say that word.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din watched Koska winked at Winta, “I won’t tell your mama.” She looked to Omera then. “Cute kid.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bo-Katan glared at Din, “Given what I’ve since learned about you, I’m impressed with the number of children you’ve picked up along the way.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what have you </span>
  <em>
    <span>learned </span>
  </em>
  <span>about me?” Din retorted, taking a sip of his drink. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Children of the Watch weren’t inclined to make </span>
  <em>
    <span>familial </span>
  </em>
  <span>connections.” She shrugged, at ease with her own sharp tone. “Between this one and your little green friend, I’m impressed.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>bad.” Koska told Winta as she took a bite of her own stew. “I’ve had worse stuff on Mon Cala.” She looked towards Boba then, “It kinda looked like your head.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The heel of Boba’s boot hit the ground beneath the table, and Din jerked, reaching for a weapon that wasn’t at his hip. Instead he found Omera’s hand reaching out to comfort him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Easy with the insults.” Din warned Koska, before fixing Bo-Katan with a look, “You preach a lot about unity, but I’m not seeing any </span>
  <em>
    <span>unity</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s a </span>
  <em>
    <span>clone</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Bo-Katan snapped, sneering at Boba. “I’ve stared into the eyes of a thousand men who wore his face. Why should he be any different? Should I consider them fallen Mandalorians because their donor followed the creed?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“His father was a foundling. Like me.” Din stated. “Whatever you know of Clonetroopers, he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> one of them.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bo-Katan and Koska shared a look and then laughed, that rubbed Din the wrong way. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s so funny?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“By that logic, every clone would have been the child of a foundling. That doesn’t make them a Mandalorian and it doesn’t make </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span> one either.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din opened his mouth to push back, but Boba cleared his throat and gave him a stern look as he shook his head. “It’s not worth it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Glad we’re in agreement that you’re not worth it.” Koska shot back with a self-satisfied smirk. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re just pushing to get punched.” Fennec leaned forward menacingly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One gut shot and you’re short-circuiting.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Easy little one,” Boba snarled. “Don’t let your mouth overload your ass.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wanna go old man?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bo-Katan leaned forward in her seat, “Oh, this should be good.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You going to sit around and watch, princess? Isn’t that why Mandalore fell and your sister died?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera looked </span>
  <em>
    <span>horrified</span>
  </em>
  <span> and Din couldn’t blame her. “I would hate to see what’s said to your enemies.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He squeezed her hand a little tighter. “Regretting your decision?” She didn’t exactly respond and Din felt his heart sink. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Winta giggled and </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>quieted the table, all eyes turning towards her then. “What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why are you giggling?” Omera questioned, reaching over to brush her fingers over her daughter’s head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Winta smiled proudly, “Because Mr. Boba is funny when he’s mad.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bo-Katan looked between Boba and Winta, “You have an odd sense of humor.” She backed down a little, sinking back in her seat somewhat defeatedly. “My sister was a low blow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Boba shrugged, “As is my father.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Donor</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Koska muttered as she took a swig of her drink. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fennec leaned across the table towards Omera, “It’s not </span>
  <em>
    <span>always</span>
  </em>
  <span> this bad.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din tilted his head to look at Omera, “It’s really not.” He added, desperately hoping for that vague look of horror to vanish from her face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bo-Katan chuckled, “We haven’t even touched the surface of things. You still have something that belongs to me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He inwardly groaned. “Only because you won’t take the </span>
  <em>
    <span>kriffing</span>
  </em>
  <span> thing.” Din turned towards Bo-Katan and narrowed his eyes. “That would solve everything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have to win it in combat.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> fighting you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Winta, sweetheart…” Omera started suddenly. “Why don’t we take a walk through the market?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I’m enjoying this.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The stew?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The chaos.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fennec snickered, “I’m seeing the appeal of children now.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on.” Omera said a little more firmly, passing Winta a napkin to clean off her face. “Didn’t you want to look at the Loth-cat.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I get one?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Winta hummed, “I think I’m going to stay right here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you like me to come along?” Din questioned lightly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” Omera offered him a small smile. “I just need some air.” She brushed her knuckles against his cheek, before excusing herself from the table. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was in that particular moment that Din regretted not having a helmet to hide his face. His cheeks burned all the way to his ears, an unwelcome mixture of shame and embarrassment. Even as he stared down at his bowl of stew, he could feel all of their eyes on him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I thought the Jedi were dense.” Bo-Katan hissed under her breath, before speaking a little louder. “Go after her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Din looked up in surprise. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Follow her.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I asked and she declined my company.” Din looked to Fennec then, who he trusted more than Bo-Katan. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nodded in agreement, “I would definitely follow her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din scooted back in his chair, “Try not to draw blood in front of Winta.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wouldn’t dare.” Boba retorted with a self-satisfied grin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Behave</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He warned Winta, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze before he headed for the door and out onto the quietly bustling streets of Lothal. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>While Jalath was </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> the Capital City, it was still a vibrant city, brimming with life. It hadn’t always been that way. The Empire had occupied the city for a time, setting up an installation which caused trouble for the locals. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din wasn’t proud of it, but he’d picked up a handful of bounties there. </span>
  <em>
    <span>For</span>
  </em>
  <span> the Empire. If the rebels had had the capital to supply for bounties — he would’ve done the same. But that’s as neither here nor there. He couldn’t change what he’d done for the betterment of the covert. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you seen a woman pass this way?” Din asked an older woman who was selling fine silken garments. “About this tall, dark hair.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The vendor narrowed her eyes at him, sizing him up before she spoke. “If she wanted you to find her, I’m sure this woman would’ve told you where she went.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din sighed, “I can assure you, it’s not like </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” His hands went to his hips as his gaze slid over the wares the woman was selling. “How much for that emerald scarf?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The older woman looked between him and the emerald scarf that hung from one of the racks she had set up. It swayed in the soft breeze, along with the other colorful array of scarves. “What did you do?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Excuse me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You come here looking for a woman and now you want to buy a scarf.” She arched a brow at him. “So what did you do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din’s lips parted as he tried to find the words to say. “My... </span>
  <em>
    <span>family</span>
  </em>
  <span> is a lot.” That was an easy enough explanation for the unusual group of associations he’d surrounded himself with. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And who is this woman?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suppose she’s my partner.” He rolled his shoulders. “How much is the scarf?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The woman turned to the rack, unpinning the scarf and laying on the counter between them. “She went towards the Depot.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here,” Din offered the woman five credits, dropping them onto the counter before picking up the scarf. “Thank you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good luck.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din neatly folded the scarf and tucked it into the pocket of his trousers. That was what people did, wasn’t it? They bought things to make up for frustrating situations. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Emerald was one of her favorite colours too. She had a blanket that sat on the foot of her bed that was a gorgeous emerald colour. She hadn’t been able to bring it along with them when they left Sorgan. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just as the vendor had told him, Omera had made her way down towards the Depot. They had gone through that area of the market during their journey from the Slave to the Nite Owl’s residence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you doing here?” Omera gently questioned as she spotted Din approaching her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was told that I should follow you.” Din offered a tight-lipped smile, “Was that bad advice?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>No</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” She shook her head. “It had nothing to do with you. I just needed to get out of there.” Omera reached out and curled her fingers around his forearm, trailing her hand down to his hand. “I’m glad you came.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I won’t be offended if you’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>glad that I came.” Din told her, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I am.” She squeezed his hand tightly. “I just needed some air. They’re…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Overwhelming?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s an understatement.” Omera laughed a little. “The most heated conversations on Sorgan revolved around neighbours making too much noise and the time someone intentionally spoiled berry wine before a wedding ceremony.” She made a face. “I didn’t realize there would be such volatile emotions over the dinner table.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bo-Katan is </span>
  <em>
    <span>intense</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Din explained lightly. “And unfortunately someone who I need to work alongside.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know that.” Omera kept a tight grip on his hand as she looked away, watching a merchant as they hauled a heavy load of cargo behind a working animal that Din didn’t know the name of.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He frowned as he studied her, waiting for her to say something more but there seemed like a valley of silence between them. “Do you want to go back to Sorgan? I’m sure I can convince Boba to fly us back, before we proceed forward. I’ll come back as soon as—“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Din</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” Omera gave him a wide-eyed look. “Calm down, I’m not going anywhere.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” She swung their hands between them. “Let’s walk.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din swallowed thickly, “I wouldn’t blame you if you </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> want to part ways. This is more than you agreed to.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is it?” Omera pursed her lips. “You’re still here, which is what I signed up for.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought Sorgan would be it for me.” He admitted. “I thought I could finally escape all of this and figure out how to heal.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t think that.” She admitted, keeping her eyes focused ahead as they walked. “I wanted to believe it, but Sorgan is no place for you. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Kriff</span>
  </em>
  <span>, it’s no place for me. If it weren’t for Winta, I don’t know if I would’ve stayed there as long as I did.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If we don’t defeat Gideon, there will be </span>
  <em>
    <span>nowhere </span>
  </em>
  <span>that we can go that he won’t find us.” Din chewed on his bottom lip. “He’s always one step ahead.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then we’ll get a ship and keep on the move.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that what you want for Winta?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, but we can’t always have our whole lives planned out.” Omera looked at him then. “What do you want?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You. What do </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> want?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din’s brows drew together. “This.” It was an oversimplification of what he wanted. He wanted a home, he wanted Omera, Winta, and Grogu in his life. He didn’t want to worry about the past. He wanted a lot of things he hadn’t been able to want before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You worry a lot about what other people want, Din.” Omera interlaced their fingers slowly. “You’re allowed to focus on your own wants.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Easier said than done.” He huffed. “Since I was a child, I’ve only ever known how to focus on the whole, not the individual.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you could wish for one thing right now, what would you wish for?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Razor Crest.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because then I wouldn’t be burdening others with tracking Grogu down.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That's still worrying about others. What do </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>want?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek as he thought for a quiet moment. “I— I don’t know.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s nothing you want?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shrugged a shoulder, “It’s all connected to something larger.” Din worked his jaw slowly. “I would want my ship back so that I have the freedom to go where I want to. I want all of this to be over so I don’t inadvertently push you away. I want my child back in my life so I know that he’s safe.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din paused, ushering them to the side of the path away out of the way, “I got you something.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera’s brows rose upwards, “Why?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because I was worried,” He admitted as he fished the scarf out of his pocket. “And I saw it and it made me think of you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She took the scarf from him, running her fingers over the silky-soft fabric. “You didn’t have to get me anything, Din.” Omera looked up at him with a warm smile. “Thank you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din smiled in return, his heart beating a little faster as she reached out and cupped his cheek. “I knew it was your favourite colour.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She closed the distance between them, pressing her lips to his and letting the kiss linger. Long enough for someone to make a snide comment about them needing to get a room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera drew back, brushing her nose against his. “I love you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you too.” Din pressed another quick kiss to her lips. “I am sorry that they’re… a lot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suppose it could be worse.” She made a face. “The redhead could’ve challenged you to a duel over the dinner table. What </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> that about?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Remember the darksaber?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Vaguely.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din grimaced, “I disarmed Gideon and took the blade. Apparently that gives me claim to the throne of Mandalore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Really</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She has a claim by blood, but tradition suggests whoever wields the darksaber has a legitimate claim as well.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what do you intend to do with that?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I haven’t fully considered the implications. I don’t even know what’s left of Mandalore.” Din shifted anxiously. “She would have to defeat me in battle to take claim of the throne.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And kill you?” Omera frowned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just defeat me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Huh</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” She stared at him as she tied the scarf around her throat loosely. “Would Mandalore be a safe haven from Gideon?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The thought had crossed my mind.” Din admitted, his brows rising upwards. “No one can know that I’ve considered holding onto the claim.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who would I tell?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din chuckled. “I think that may be something I want. To restore order to </span>
  <em>
    <span>my </span>
  </em>
  <span>people. To show that ‘The Way’ isn’t the </span>
  <em>
    <span>only </span>
  </em>
  <span>way.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera’s smile spread across her lips, “That’s still doing something for others, Din. But I’ll let it slide.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He reached for her hand and brought it to his lips. “We should get back.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Before blood is drawn?” Omera laughed, shaking her head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hopefully not in front of Winta.” Din retorted with his own short laugh. “I don’t think Boba will allow that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s good with her.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din nodded, “Who would’ve thought?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Certainly not me.” She laughed again, leaning into his side. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Shameless smut! I couldn't help myself. I also accidentally came up with a whole plot for the rest of this story today and I'm excited.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The Nite Owls lived above a tavern when they weren’t on their ship, somewhere out among the hyperspace lanes. It wasn’t much, but there was room enough for everyone. Boba and Fennec had their own accommodations, Winta had her own room, and Din and Omera finally had some well-deserved alone time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din was antsy. He was ready to get back into action and track down Gideon, but if they wanted the Nite Owls’ help, they had to wait for Axe Woves to return from a mission. It wasn’t worth it to argue with Bo-Katan. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You were right, the water pressure in the ‘fresher is to die for.” Omera remarked as she stepped back into the bedroom, her dark hair a shade darker as she toweled it dry. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tried not to stare, but it was hard not to when the towel she had wrapped around her body barely covered </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span>. She had gorgeous legs. She had a gorgeous everything, if he was being honest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Din?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you hear me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din made a face, “No.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera laughed brightly, “What’s got you distracted?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His tongue darted out over his bottom lip, “Oh, I have no idea.” Din drew in a short breath as he watched the towel she wore ride up her ass as she turned away from him to retrieve her sleep shift. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew</span>
  </em>
  <span>. She had to know considering the way she unwrapped the towel and let it drop to her feet with purpose. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her wet hair stuck to the back of her neck and her shoulders, little drops of water racing down her skin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din’s mouth went dry as he watched her bend over to grab something off the chair, which gave him a </span>
  <em>
    <span>full </span>
  </em>
  <span>view on the most intimate parts of her. He swore he felt the blood drain from his head and pool in his groin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera pulled on the shift, robbing him of his view. “I don’t know why I bothered getting dressed.” She said over her shoulder, before turning back to him. “See something you like?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do.” He nodded his head as he watched her approach the bed. The shift was thin enough that he could see straight through it. He could see her breasts and that dark patch of hair between her thighs through the fabric. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As </span>
  <em>
    <span>difficult </span>
  </em>
  <span>as this stay is,” Omera said pointedly and he knew that she was referencing dinner. “It’s nice to have a room to ourselves.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not fond of stolen moments in cramped rooms on the Slave?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera grimaced a little as she pulled back the covers and climbed into bed with him, “I can’t say I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>fond</span>
  </em>
  <span> of it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din rolled onto his side to face her, reaching out to curl his hand around her hip. “I’m glad you came.” He rubbed his thumb over her hip bone through the thin fabric, before smoothing his hand down her leg. “I don’t know if I was prepared to miss you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She trailed her fingers over his collarbone, before running her hand down his chest. “I thought you missed me </span>
  <em>
    <span>before</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I missed the idea of you,” Din admitted and it was the truth. The idea of settling down somewhere — quiet and calm — had been an appealing fantasy. “But I would’ve missed </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> if we parted ways.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera leaned in and pressed a kiss to his chin, “Good thing neither of us has to miss the other.” Her fingers trailed lower, brushing through the hair on that led downwards. “Have I mentioned recently how </span>
  <em>
    <span>proud </span>
  </em>
  <span>I am of you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din’s brows rose upwards, his pulse drumming in his ears as her hand moved downwards to cup him through his pants. And she expected him to be able to </span>
  <em>
    <span>listen</span>
  </em>
  <span>? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When you came back to Sorgan,” Omera started, gently palming him as she spoke. “You were quiet, </span>
  <em>
    <span>stiff</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and couldn’t even look me in the  eye.” She slowly stroked his cock. “But look at you now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Still </span>
  <em>
    <span>stiff</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He muttered, his hand tightening at her hip as she squeezed him gently. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She laughed as she leaned in to close the distance between them, pressing her lips to his. Omera released her hold on him, only to slide her hand into the waistband of his pants to touch him without anything between them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din swore under his breath, his hips shifting towards her touch as she stroked him. He tilted his head, giving her access as she kissed down his throat, her teeth softly scraping over his skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve done so well, Din.” She whispered as she languidly stroked her palm over his length. “So </span>
  <em>
    <span>good</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He caught ahold of her wrist, prying her hand away from his cock before it was over </span>
  <em>
    <span>far </span>
  </em>
  <span>too soon. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Omera</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Din said warningly as she tucked the fingers over her other hand into the waistband of his pants. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” She fluttered her lashes with mock-innocence. “Is something wrong?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you keep at it,” He closed the distance between them, his breath brushing over her lips. “I’m not going to be able to </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck </span>
  </em>
  <span>you like I want to.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She surged forward, curling her fingers around the back of his neck as their lips met. Din’s mouth worked over hers like he was trying to consume her, his tongue sweeping out to tease over the roof of her mouth. Omera pulled him with her as she rolled onto her back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din moved over her, pressing a knee between her thighs as he caught her hands, interlacing their fingers and pinning them above her head. “Good?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera nodded, running her foot up the back of his leg as she curled her leg around him. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Very</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” She breathed out as she pointedly rolled her hips so she could grind herself against his knee. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He dipped down to kiss her again, before trailing kisses down her throat. He released his hold on her hands as he moved downwards. His mouth found her breast through the shift, teasing his tongue over the pebbled peak that pressed against the fabric. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I’m proud of how </span>
  <em>
    <span>confident </span>
  </em>
  <span>you are.” Omera continued, picking up where she left off. “Just look at you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din looked up at her, “Are you trying to kill me?” He questioned as he palmed at her other breast. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That wouldn’t do me any good.” She rocked against his leg again, lips parting with a breathy moan that set Din on fire. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a miracle that he didn’t tear the shift in his haste to pull it off of her. He roughly pulled it up her body, lips finding hers again as soon as she was bare beneath him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din wondered if the novelty would ever wear off. Because there was still something so </span>
  <em>
    <span>intimate </span>
  </em>
  <span>about feeling her bare breasts pressed against his bare chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His hand skimmed down her side, over her hip, palming at the soft flesh there before he worked his hand between her thighs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera’s lips parted and she let out a breathy moan of his name as his fingers found her slick flesh, teasing at that little bundle of nerves with that very confidence she’d mentioned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din met her gaze, watching her expression as teased her. “Do you have any idea how easily you wind me up?” He questioned as he readjusted his hand so he could work two fingers into her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Isn’t that the idea?” She questioned as she rolled her hips towards his touch. “To make you </span>
  <em>
    <span>snap</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His brows rose upwards, “Is that what you want?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m happy with whatever you’re comfortable with, Din.” Omera assured him, reaching out to comb her fingers through his hair as he leaned down to kiss her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din kissed his way down her body, hands skimming over her waist, kissing downwards until he was settled between her thighs. He took his time, running his hands along her inner thighs, leaving open-mouthed kisses there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her fingers tightened in his hair as he returned to his main mission, his tongue sweeping between her soaked folds to tease her. Din wanted to wind her up the same way she’d spurred him on, bringing her right to the same cusp of pleasure. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din looked up at her, holding her gaze as he focused his attention on that little bundle of nerves that drew the </span>
  <em>
    <span>sweetest</span>
  </em>
  <span> sounds from her lips. She squirmed beneath him, the heel of her foot dragging down the bed as she lowered a leg, the other still bent. </span>
</p><p><span>She moaned, louder than she ever</span> <span>had in the comfort of her home on Sorgan. The sound went straight through Din, making him </span><em><span>ache</span></em><span> for more. </span></p><p>
  <span>He stopped, leaving her teetering on the edge before he sat back to remove his pants — the last thing standing between them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din retraced a path back up her body, lavishing her with attention again until they were face-to-face once more. Omera’s fingers toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck as she curled her fingers around the back of his neck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I should be cursing your name.” She breathed out, lips nearly brushing his. “I was close.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know.” He smirked, leaning down to kiss her, cupping her jaw as his mouth worked against her own. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera pulled back from the kiss, her just rising and falling with her shaky breaths. “Do you want to try something different?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din swallowed thickly as he nodded. “What were you thinking?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She dragged her thumb over his bottom lip as she held his gaze, “I’m going to roll over.” She dropped her voice low. “You don’t have to be so </span>
  <em>
    <span>gentle</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had spent his whole life being </span>
  <em>
    <span>rough</span>
  </em>
  <span> in his occupation, it felt strange to be encouraged to be rough in the bedroom too. “Whatever you want,” Din whispered as he caught her thumb between his teeth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din sat back, giving Omera space to roll onto her stomach before she gathered herself onto her hands and knees. He draped himself over her, his chest pressed against her back as he brushed her damp hair aside to kiss her shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera inhaled sharply as he reached down between them to guide his cock to her cunt. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Rough</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He could do that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din grabbed at her hip to hold her steady as he sank into her. He gave her a second to get used to the intrusion before he was drawing out and slamming back into her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her fingers tightened their grip on the sheets beneath her, rolling back into his thrusts. “That’s it.” She encouraged him, turning her head back to look at him just enough for him to steal a messy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is this what you wanted?” Din questioned, punctuating his question with the way he snapped his hips into her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera nodded wordlessly as she rocked back into his relentless pace. She was already right on the precipice of her release, her inner walls fluttering around his cock as he moved within her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Harder</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” She managed, grabbing at the hand he had gripping at her hip, her nails biting into his skin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din picked up the pace at her words, driving into her and chasing her over the edge. He was right behind her, losing himself to the sensation of her body clenching around his cock. His hips twitched, still moving as he slumped against her back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera kept a tight grip on his hand as she wilted beneath him, keeping him right where he was, even though he was pinning her to the bed beneath him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Should move.” Din mumbled, pressing his face into the crook of her neck and exhaling slowly. He fanned his fingers out over her hip, sliding his fingertips over her skin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He snaked his arm around beneath her, drawing her back against his chest as he rolled onto his side, keeping her cradled against him. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Better</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera reached behind her to drag her fingers through his hair, tugging lightly at the strands. “Could use practice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Ouch</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Din nuzzled at her shoulder as he ran his hand down the top of her thigh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She laughed, slapping at his hip playfully. “But think of the </span>
  <em>
    <span>practice</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“On the Slave?” He peppered kisses along her cheek. “I don’t think we’ll get much </span>
  <em>
    <span>practice</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera turned a little to look back at him, “You have a point.” She leaned in to kiss him. “But we’ll figure something out.” She settled back down on the bed, resting back against him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din curled his arm around her waist, “I still want to hear more about that </span>
  <em>
    <span>fantasy</span>
  </em>
  <span> of yours.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She trailed her fingers down his arm, “I wasn’t sure if you wanted to talk about the armour.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grumbled a little, “Not really, but…” Din exhaled heavily. “When we leave Lothal, I plan to wear it again. Maybe not the helmet, but the armour.” The thought of putting the helmet back on made his skin crawl. Like he feared that putting it back on again would mean he couldn’t take it back off again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera interlaced her fingers with his, squeezing gently. “You can only do what’s right for you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din pressed his lips to her shoulder, nodding slowly, “I know. I just need to bite the bullet and wear it again.” He rested his chin against her shoulder. “Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For what?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Being here? Listening to me?” Din offered with a quiet huff of a laugh. “Loving me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera hummed, “I’m glad you came back.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me too.” He closed his eyes, enjoying the peace he felt in that moment. He wanted to cling to that feeling, knowing that it would be a fleeting sensation over the next few weeks. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry for the delay. I'm on deadline with a few things in real life and I didn't get around to posting this as soon as I wanted to! A little Din being a clueless boy and some smut. Miss you all!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Axe returned to Lothal a few days later and within the day the Nite Owls were trailing behind the Slave I through the hyperspace lanes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chandrila was home to the New Republic capital. Shortly after the Battle of Endor, the victors sought out a home for the newly formed Galactic senate and Chandrila had won out. Din knew little about the politicking involved — but Fennec had been all too willing to explain it to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din loathed going to the Core Worlds, but he loathed the people who hailed from those planets more. They turned a blind eye on the Outer Rim, benefited from their labor, and swept in to save the day whenever it proved beneficial to them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m from Cardota.” Omera remarked, once Din was through grousing about his frustrations with the Core Worlds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fennec snorted, “Oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> is good.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera laughed nervously as she brushed a loose strand of hair from her braid behind her ear. “Hosnian Cardota.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din grimaced, his brain tracking through the map systems he’d burned into his memory. “Oh.” The Hosnian was </span>
  <em>
    <span>very </span>
  </em>
  <span>much at the heart of the Core Worlds. Right along the Corellian Trade Spine too. “I—“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Wait</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Fennec cut him off. “How the hell did you end up on Sorgan?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s none of your business.” Din said sharply, giving Fennec a warning look. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s alright.” Omera assured him, rubbing her hand over his leg. “I trust Fennec.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fennec seemed pleasantly surprised by that fact. She leaned forward, “I can’t promise I won’t tell Boba.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just don’t tell Winta.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din stared at Omera, his brows drawn together. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your secret is safe with Fett and I.” Fennec assured her, leaning forward with interest. “But I have had </span>
  <em>
    <span>many </span>
  </em>
  <span>questions.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> exciting.” Omera kept her hand on Din’s leg. “I was raised on Cardota. Contrary to </span>
  <em>
    <span>popular </span>
  </em>
  <span>opinion, not everyone in the Core Worlds is financially secure. The Empire knew this and they worked hard to recruit from those regions.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fennec nodded her head slowly, “They knew what they were doing. Exploiting the weakest links.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din tilted his head, his eyes flickering between Omera and Fennec. He felt like a fool for how he’d regarded the people from the Core World. Omera had never once mentioned it — he knew of her time in the Empire, she’d mentioned things in passing when they were alone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Winta’s father and I knew each other on Cardota and he convinced me to enlist with him. Starry-eyed promises. I should’ve recognized that he was too excited at the promise of joining them — too excited about </span>
  <em>
    <span>change</span>
  </em>
  <span>. We were friends, but that changed into something more.” Omera lowered her gaze, “And then Winta happened.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is he…” Fennec started, trying to search for a tactful way to ask her question. “You mentioned killing a man and… I recognize that look.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What look?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You looked down.” Fennec explained, clasping her hands together. “And you shifted like it made you uncomfortable to reflect on the </span>
  <em>
    <span>good</span>
  </em>
  <span> that was once there.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera squeezed Din’s leg and he reached for her hand, curling his fingers around hers. “He </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> a good man before the Empire emboldened his worst behavior.” She admitted. “He was cruel while I was pregnant, but it was after Winta was born that he hit me for the first time. I did what had to be done and left on the first transport off base. I could’ve gone home to Cardota, but I would’ve had to face his family… Sorgan was barely a blip on the Empire’s radar.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fennec regarded her with admiration, “You’re a strong woman, Omera.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m a mother.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I didn’t want Winta growing up in that situation and I didn’t trust him not to hurt others.” Omera’s gaze slid towards Din, her expression shifting into concern as she stared at him. “What’s wrong?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t know you were from the Core Worlds.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera squeezed his leg, “It’s alright, Din.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” He shook his head. “It wasn’t fair to assume that all Core Worlders thrive like the rich.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Most of the Core World deserves the judgment they receive.” Omera assured him, waving off his concern — but that didn’t help the sinking disappointment he felt with himself. “Where are you from?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Vontor.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din’s brows rose, “Hutt Space?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nodded, sinking back in her seat. “There’s a reason I’m a mercenary.” Fennec gave Din a look. “You’re in luck too, Boba’s from the Outer Rim. You’ve only offended your lady friend.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He hasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>offended</span>
  </em>
  <span> me.” Omera laughed, rubbing her hand up and down the length of his leg, but that still didn’t assuage his guilt. “Hey, look at me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din blinked slowly before he focused on her, “What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where were you going there?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was taught that the Core Worlds funded the war. Emboldened the Separatists. Put up the capital for the droids.” He swallowed thickly. “Not everything I was taught was correct.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How’s that going?” Fennec questioned. “Boba mentioned in passing that you were trying to unlearn what your cult taught you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Covert</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see no difference.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din exhaled slowly. “It’s going fine.” He gritted out, before standing abruptly. “It’s getting late. I think I’m going to hit the ‘fresher and go to bed.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t mean to strike a nerve.” Fennec arched a brow at him. “My apologies.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t.” Din pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek. His gaze flickered towards Omera, before looking away quickly. “I’ll see you both in the morning.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite his words, Omera called him all the way into the ‘fresher. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s the </span>
  <em>
    <span>real </span>
  </em>
  <span>problem here?” She questioned as she crowded into the small space with him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>All </span>
  </em>
  <span>of my opinions on the world have been shaped under false pretenses.” Din’s fingers curled into fists at his sides. “Do you have any idea how frustrating that is? Every day I discover that something I have believed to be true was </span>
  <em>
    <span>never </span>
  </em>
  <span>true.” He lowered his head, trying to ease the tension he felt in his shoulders and back. “This is one of the few times I actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>miss </span>
  </em>
  <span>the helmet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Din.” Omera reached out hesitantly, resting her hands on his shoulders before trailing them down his arms. “You didn’t know.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s a lot I don’t know.” He looked down at her, holding her gaze. “I’m sorry.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be.” She shook her head. “I lived in the Outer Rim long enough to know that everything you said </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> true.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve always blamed them for my parents’ death. That’s what I was led to believe by the elders in the covert.” Din scraped his teeth over his bottom lip. “The Core Worlds funded the war.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They did.” Omera frowned. “You aren’t wrong for believing that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din cupped her cheek, rubbing his thumb over the rise of her cheekbone. “But it wasn’t everyone.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s never </span>
  <em>
    <span>everyone</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” She rubbed her fingers over the back of his hand. “That doesn’t change how you feel, Din.” Omera took his hand into hers, pressing a kiss to his palm. “But you recognize that your opinions </span>
  <em>
    <span>can </span>
  </em>
  <span>change.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do.” He brushed his thumb over her bottom lip as he held her gaze. “I wish you had told me. This is not the first time I’ve made complaints about Core Worlders.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you talk so </span>
  <em>
    <span>passionately </span>
  </em>
  <span>about your opinions.” She arched a brow at him. “And the last time you spoke on the topic, I think you garnered a little respect from the workers on Sorgan. You spoke to their distrust in the people at the top.” Omera rubbed her thumb over the back of his knuckles. “You mean well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din looked away then, catching his own eye in the reflective metal mounted on the wall above the sink. “I never needed to have opinions on these things.” He explained. “We all served different purposes within the covert. I was a bounty hunter. Why would I need to understand any of that history? As long as I knew where to track a bounty. As long as I knew who put up the highest bids… I did my job.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera’s brows drew together, “Is this because of Mandalore?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe.” He rocked his jaw as he stared at his own reflection, before tearing his gaze away. “How can I even think of leading when I know so little about the galaxy?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you care.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do.” Din agreed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You cared about the people of Sorgan even when they didn’t care for you.” She tilted her head, keeping her eyes on his face. “I know I don’t know Bo-Katan beyond the tense conversations I have been present for, but… She seems determined to be right and the way she spoke about Boba.” She shook her head. “At least you’re willing to listen and change.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din made a face, “I don’t know how much more </span>
  <em>
    <span>change </span>
  </em>
  <span>I can take, Omera.” Din widened his eyes dramatically. “You know what a wreck I am.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think you can handle it.” Omera winked at him. “But right now, I’m going to let you shower.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You could always stay,” Din suggested with an easy smirk. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Tempting</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” She squeezed his hand as she took a step back. “But I should check on Winta.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He snapped his fingers. “I can’t argue with that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera leaned back against the door, smiling at him. “If she’s sleeping comfortably, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>should </span>
  </em>
  <span>be able to join you in your quarters.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Make yourself comfortable if I’m still in the ‘fresher.” Din took a step towards her, leaning in to kiss her forehead. “Thank you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Listening to me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Enjoy it.” Omera stroked his cheek, before she reached for the toggle that slid the ‘fresher door open. “Have fun.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He snorted, “I will.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time he finished in the ‘fresher and made his way to his quarters on the Slave, Omera was already sound asleep on the bunk. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din carefully peeled the blankets out from beneath her, trying not to rouse her as he draped them over her body and slid beneath the covers beside her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He reached above his head to toggle off the lighting. The room was dark, save for the dim emergency lights that glowed at the floor line. Not nearly enough light to see the woman laying beside him, but he’d put to memory every little detail about her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera shifted in her sleep, rolling towards him like she was seeking the warmth of his body beneath the sheets. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din curled his arm around her, running his fingers down her back. He was envious of her ability to sleep, when his own mind was churning through every detail of the past few months. Forcing him to readdress who he was — again and again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Boba made it seem easy. He was a Mandalorian, like his father before him. There was no question about that in his own mind, even when Bo-Katan questioned his identity. He knew who he was, without hesitation. Even Bo-Katan was unwavering in her own identity. She saw herself as the rightful ruler of Mandalore and there was no room to question it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But who was he? Who did he want to be? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera kept urging him to make decisions for himself, but it was easier said than done. His entire identity had been built around being a dutiful member of the covert — of doing what he was assigned to do, of providing for others before himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The only time he’d ever been truly selfish — when he saw himself in Grogu’s eyes and broke from his role as a Bounty Hunter, he’d caused the covert to fall. The people who had raised him and protected him from childhood had removed their armor and fled. Because of him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That weighed on him. If there had been no fallout to his selfishness, maybe then he’d be able to make decisions for himself. But the swift consequences to doing the </span>
  <em>
    <span>right </span>
  </em>
  <span>thing made unlearning even more daunting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he closed his eyes, he knew what he saw. The life he yearned for. He wanted what his parents had had. They may have been distant, shadowy imperfect memories — but he remembered their love. There was a warmth to his childhood that he’d never been able to replicate, until…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera moved beside him, a cold foot brushing against his leg as she sought out warmth. “Hi.” She whispered sleepily. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did I wake you?” Din trailed his fingers from the small of her back to her hip, squeezing it gently. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” She rubbed her hand up and down his arm. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” She stifled a yawn. “How was your shower?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighed heavily, tapping his fingers against her hip. “Relaxing enough.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera cupped his cheek in the darkness, “What’s on your mind?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That we should be sleeping.” He turned his head and pressed his lips to her palm, his breath warm against her skin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Din</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve just been trying to figure out what I want.” He admitted. “I’m parsing through things.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And </span>
  <em>
    <span>what</span>
  </em>
  <span> do you want?” Omera questioned, brushing her thumb over his lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The tone she took with her question caught his attention, bringing heat to his face as desire washed through him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right now or in general?” He questioned as he rested his hand at her hip. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You tell me.” Omera retorted, exhaustion still clinging to her voice, but the underlying current of desire almost more apparent in the darkness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Short term wants were so much easier to voice. Overarching desires seemed far too greedy. Telling her that he wanted to revisit the offer to stay on Sorgan — that he wanted the four of them to live a quiet life together far from the reach of his enemies? How could he put those desires to words? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din’s lips found the soft flesh of her throat in the darkness, leaving a row of open-mouthed kisses as he brought his lips to hover near her ear, “Are you sure you don’t want to go back to sleep?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera dragged her fingers through his hair, cradling the back of his neck. “I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>certain</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” She whispered, gently scraping her nails downwards over his bare back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He groaned in response, relishing the slight prick of pain that formed in the wake of her nails. Din’s tongue flicked out over her skin, lips working over her skin as he moved to kiss the hollow of her throat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His fingers tugged at the fabric of her shift, drawing it up until it was bunched up at her hip. He palmed at the supple flesh of her bare thigh as he lifted his head to claim her lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera’s tongue trailed over his lips and they parted for her, meeting her desperation with his own. He was far more confident than he had once been — taking what he wanted but letting her have what she </span>
  <em>
    <span>needed </span>
  </em>
  <span>in return. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What she didn’t need to know was that he still approached it like a tactical mission. Even in the dark, he mapped out his plan of action. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din urged her to roll back onto the bed, draping himself half over her so his hand could wander downwards between her thighs. He drew back from her lips, breathing heavily as he dipped down to leave kisses down her throat again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He skimmed his fingers along her inner thigh, before ghosting them over her cunt. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Omera</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He breathed out against the crook of her neck as he circled his finger over that sensitive bundle of nerves. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera let out a breathy moan as she rocked her hips towards his touch. She readjusted herself, draping her leg over his in an effort to give his hand more access. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din followed her lead as she guided his jaw upwards so she could kiss him, sinking into the moment as he teased her slick folds. The angle was just </span>
  <em>
    <span>right </span>
  </em>
  <span>for her to grind her hip against his cock.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera’s fingers found their way into his hair, tugging gently at the strands as they slipped between her fingers. She broke away from his lips, “And you wanted us to just go to bed?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A low chuckle escaped him, “I was trying to be polite.” He muttered, circling the tip of his fingers around her core, before dipping a single digit into her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Kriff</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” She hissed out, rolling her hips towards his fingers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din nipped at her bottom lip, sucking it between his lips as he worked his fingers into her. The sounds that she made had his cock aching in the sleep pants that he wore. Every time she writhed on his fingers her hip rocked against him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She came for him, her inner walls fluttering around his fingers, slicking his fingers with her arousal. And the </span>
  <em>
    <span>sounds </span>
  </em>
  <span>she made only compounded his lust. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera wedged her hand between them to cup his cock, palming at him like she was trying to wind him up. “Come on, Din.” She urged, pressing her lips to his jaw. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din caught her hand, dragging it away from him as he pinned it back against the bed. “Are you trying to bring this to an </span>
  <em>
    <span>abrupt </span>
  </em>
  <span>end?” He questioned, interlacing their fingers as he rolled onto his knees. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She laughed brightly, joining his other hand in a pursuit to rid him of his pants and freeing his cock. “Just trying to </span>
  <em>
    <span>spur</span>
  </em>
  <span> you on.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite an inability to truly see her, he moved with surprising grace as he maneuvered himself between her thighs. He grabbed at her other hand, keeping both pinned to the bed above her head as he </span>
  <em>
    <span>finally </span>
  </em>
  <span>pressed into her.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera wrapped her leg around his hips, pulling him down towards her as he started to move. “Don’t go easy, Din.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was easier in the dark. Easier to let go of the pretenses. To put his hesitations aside. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gathered both of her hands into one hand, reaching down to grab at her hip to hold her steady as he snapped his hips into her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She cried out louder than either of them expected, but he was quick to cover her mouth with his, kissing her with the same intensity that he fucked into her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera managed to free one hand from his grip, fingernails digging into the soft flesh of his ass as she urged him on. She was close — he didn’t need to see her face to know, he could tell by the way she gripped his cock. But that was all it took to push him over the edge. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even as Din came apart, he kept thrusting into her, grinding against her as he tried to coax her over the edge with him. She bit down on his bottom lip, hard enough to break skin as she finally crested. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he didn’t care. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He released his hold on her other hand so he could pull away and collapse into the tight spot between her and the wall of the bunk. Din wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her into his side as he lazily kissed her still covered shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera nestled back against him, “I love you.” She told him as she ghosted her fingers over his where they were curled around him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Din hummed contentedly, nuzzling at her shoulder. “I love you too.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re getting better at that.” She told him, winding her fingers through his hair. “Do… you enjoy it too?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded his head, squeezing by her a little tighter. “Though perhaps less teeth next time.” Din quipped as he licked out his bottom lip to test whether or not there was blood. There </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omera rolled over so he was facing him. She reached out through the darkness and cupped his cheek, “Sorry.” She whispered sheepishly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t apologize,” He kissed her forehead, landing somewhere between her brows. “I enjoyed it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She bumped her nose against his, laughing softly before she sobered. “Din?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What </span>
  <em>
    <span>do </span>
  </em>
  <span>you want?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The four of us.” He answered without hesitation. “You, me, Winta, and Grogu.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me too.” </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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